s w i f t s  &  s l o w s: a quarterly of crisscrossings

VerticalParallels
Daniel Barbiero & Randee Silv

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The clock hands were stuck at 3:20, bringing on long shadows. The end of days may have come when no one expected them, but that didn’t disturb us; it was only a rumor and one we gave little credence to. It was all so predictable, anyway. We looked ahead toward the striped maple turning yellow under the overhand. No need to look at the wasteland behind us, it hasn’t blossomed in years, not since the time we counted the bays on a morning glory leaf. This does nothing to diminish the meaning of water by the desert—there are strange fish there, but not so strange that they won’t be there when we’ve stopped looking at them. 6:30 a.m. something darted out. It was impossible not to slip on frivolous guarantees silhouetting against circular rotations. Navigating through synthetic glares made no distinctions. From island to island, variations multiply dormant whereabouts. Cupfuls of sand measure objects that reek of granular murkiness sloppily construed. What’s behind transfers to in-front & side by side. Piercing together silences wedged between detoured relics is still feasible. Returning to the end of the dock gains velocity. Honking shrieks are heard before we have a chance to turn around.

But if a tree pushes roots into the sky, will anyone hear it when you think aloud? A sudden change, and the arcade was no longer there; we missed its shadows, for which the clock was no substitute. Technically, it was autumn, but we called it stone anyway; Venus was showing dimly through the haze, promising rain, or boredom. But there would be no time for time after this time, and the statue wouldn’t laugh no matter what we did. There was no expertise to call on, no convenient book of codes and translations. The symbol had no function, the sign no referent; instead, each encountered thing, each animal and mineral, pointed in every possible direction, but please pick one. Transferring from open to closed, anywhere is everywhere. Listings, notations forced into shrinking circles and expiration dates. Outpours melt into unforgiving structures that once thought metal adhered to forest floors growing upwards. Already falling from shelves, air dried reflections mark perpendicular diagonals asleep on streets. Slid under silky winged creatures, silhouettes carve oddments into invented predicaments. Nobody should sit on barbed wire. Obsolete equations, pretty easy to do, turn milk into glue.

The humidity had been more than was promised, but really, there was nowhere else to go. Oddly marked birds flew there, none of them bothered by the obvious absence of cedar trees. Instead, rock and coral rose in improvised towers, colored like the rainbow seen glancingly in an oil slick. Only later we found out that it was just a clever effect, a mimicry of minerals that in reality was just a smear of paint pulled off of a piece of paper. We can’t pretend to have been surprised, but by then even a statue of a bird-headed woman wouldn’t have seemed out of the ordinary. The time for triadic harmony was over; what we needed now was a secret wild card, something to take the three of coins whenever it came up. Buried distances never seem to matter whether upstream shores lay shattered on both sides. Prolonged uproars juggle calls against calls 10 points ahead and 2 points behind.  Some with others break nuances stupefied on crystalized glowing reeds. Empty holes are unwrapped down to the core. Even stronger than that, mismatched slippings push beyond what was once left perched on clay pillars. Hammered planks sawed in half rain from a tearing sky. Back seat crowds keep the momentum of the night crisp. An erasure of memories pull & rise & split like atoms.

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Daniel Barbiero is an improvising double bassist who composes graphic scores and writes on music, art and related subjects. He is a regular contributor to Avant Music News and Perfect Sound Forever. His most recent release is Transparent Points on Four Axes, with Ken Moore and Dave Vosh.

Abstract painter Randee Silv constructs wordslabs that emerge as gestures reshaped, juxtaposed, tilting fragments that alter between what is and isn’t. They’ve appeared in Posit, Urban Graffiti, Maudlin House, Sensitive Skin, Bone Bouquet & Otoliths. Her chapbook Farnessity has been published by dancing girl press (2018).