Okay, I didn’t write this. I transcribed it. These are words to a song my seven year old son improvised and sang over a piece of moody music he composed on the keyboard, also, I think, improvised. Listening to the thing, you can barely decipher what he’s singing, so I thought a lyric sheet might help. So read the poem, and if you like, listen to the audio and follow along with the words, which, even though they’re not my words, will still serve, I think, as my 14th poem, because I had to work really hard to get them down. I tried not to put words in his mouth, but I think there are moments here when it couldn’t be helped.
Tonight
A parna, a word
we will not fade
to the that
we know not to do that
that will be evil
and that that that
will not come to an end
to the one and that that
before and
that that we do not know
and know and not that
we don’t do that
in the world go to bed
for the week of the god
tonight.
michael jarmer 