Riverside III

Sinuous was the river, and the snake, but not the swamp rat. The swamp rat was sinful, with his own swampy sinful music. Rattling sinful, like a rattle snake not a water snake, and no water music riffle and rattle or raffle.

Slade, the river snake, and Alex, the swamp rat, were frenemies. Frenemies couldn’t make music, because music is harmonious, and frenemies are in disharmony. Slade is silent. Alex is bumptious. There was no duo here, no dynamic duo. Music is, by nature dynamic. So two strikes against this happening of the river snake and swamp rat: no harmony; no dynamics.

Relaxation is musical. Yes, there are rests in music. There are pauses. Interestingly, there are no periods, also known as full stops. Phrases, but no periods. Even in a period piece, there are no periods. Sentences have periods, so presumably lyrics, which may be composed of sentences, have periods…

… Do the periods in lyrics correspond with the rests in the what’s that? musical part?

If a period in the lyrics corresponds to a cresendo in the music, does this mean agitation and anxiety are therefore musical, beings how agitation and anxiety are opposites of relaxation? Or being frenemies?

Alex, as he dawdled, pondered. What he really wondered is why go near a quandary-swamp-quagmire-vexation as whether or not agitation and anxiety are musical. Fuck that.

Alex stuck an index finger between his Jordan Spizike Low sneakers and his bony, lightly dirty but heavily grimy ankle, in order to give the ankle a good scratch. Skin scratched, he relaxed again. He took a period, and a breath, though it was woodwind he plucked. Ruck in the muck, a washboard scrape, a loosened moan, a pleasant realization the river snake was venomous, and many was the number of swamp rat cubs venomously voraciously voluptuously slurped up by his frenemy, Slade, the river snake.