(Liner Notes = ‘Holy Thursday,’ by Paul Muldoon)
|They’re kindly here, to let us linger so late,
Long after the shutters are up.
A waiter glides from the kitchen with a plate
Of stew, or some thick soup,
And settles himself at the next table but one.
The waiter swabs his plate with bread
(What a sonnet, that. Makes me wanna use the term ‘meditative’ in an earnest way. Same with Mojave 3. Also, you can from the rhymes that Muldoon started out formal-as-fuck, only to let the poem spread its wings beyond the form after all. Same is true of Mojave 3 and their ‘songs,’ the best of which cede the place of honor to a kind of ambient wash. I bet they just kill live. )