Saw Kafka's "THE METAMORPHOSIS" last night.
In dance, words realized and a man sticky
As he decomposes,
Composes his family.
But without the usual inspiration,
Afraid to tackle what can not be made more
Beautiful.
So instead I scribble an equation
And put my head underneath the
Bathtub water,
And calculate my foolishness,
Dabbling in the mathematics of
Love and poetry.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 6:56 AM UTC
Saw Kafka's "THE METAMORPHOSIS" last night.
In dance, words realized and a man sticky
As he decomposes,
Composes his family.
But without the usual inspiration,
Afraid to tackle what can not be made more
Beautiful.
So instead I scribble an equation
And put my head underneath the
Bathtub water,
And calculate my foolishness,
Dabbling in the mathematics of
Love and poetry.
See "Prahu opines re the mathematics of love"
See http://www.joyce.org/performance/the-metamorphosis-a-royal-ballet-production-2/#.UjrYLMu9KSM
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