Swan Er Supomin A, Part One

This is just called swan er supomin a, part. You imagine of swan lik, which is this astonishing kind of artistic feat. So i was listening to that, to tchaikowskys astonishing kind of score, over and over again as i wrote this. And then the year everything was darkness. The red beak of my longing. The wedge of men in flight from club to club, banked in at every bar. T loneliness, as though i'm dying of thirst. I think the men must be where water is. But look who is coming in to land to tear the piece asunder.