爵士风云（杨艾琳）

是笔在希望中枯竭 是格子放弃了攀爬 批判之声哑然失笑 修辞不再是礼貌 是犀鸟飞起又落下 是风筝断线悬挂枝枒 抒情之意闷不吭声 鸡不哭而鸟不嚎 谁说绝望会开花 谁说反抗是必然 是泛黄的笔记本空白了 写不尽的完整 (2017岁末于江沙)

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

小时候父亲常带我们到PJ十四区的小食中心用餐。有个摊主貌似刘德华，卖的是"碌碌"。成串的腐竹、鱼丸、蚶等，往沸腾的水里烫，熟了沾花生酱和辣椒酱吃。 有时顾客多了，冒烟的水里几十串的，找不到自己那串，只好一支支拿起来看。虽然不太卫生，但一群人围着既烫又沾的， 卻...

那天，一只鹧鸪飞了进来。它凭窗下望，看我们在厨房忙乎 。后来它飞到墙上未启动的风扇，静观准备晚餐的风景。它 换了几个角度观察，然后安稳地坐在碗柜上，不走了。 饭后发现鹧鸪不见了，或许是辞世的老狗回来瞧瞧，打个招 呼。也许吸引它的，是现在的和上一代搀杂成一个佳肴的， 菜香。

小时候家里养狗，旧的走了，新的又来。因此从小我就以为，狗狗是每个家庭必要的成员。 "Brownie"是我姐姐的北京狗，这么说是因为名字是她取的。记得我每天躺在薄薄的床垫上，午觉前吸奶瓶里的美禄及吃饼干。Bow-nie (卷舌是不容易的)总躺在我身边，我望着天花板，它看着前方，我咬一口，它咬一口地吃着，共享一块饼干。

我们家一直都没电视，不主张看电视，觉得做什么都比看电视有用。后来unifi来到这里，附带宽频电视配套，才弄了一台电视机。 配套中有一台专播外文片，省下了买dvd的麻烦，或上网找电影的烦恼，一家三口追字幕，欣赏欧洲人举重若轻的生活态度，对南非全白人电影摇头，或有亚洲人出现时，细嚼他们异乡的角色。有时我们讨论究竟是哪一国的语言，也参考各国不同时代的家居颜色搭配。 曾经我们有各自的活动，上网看书玩耍，或各自对着电脑看节目。如今一块坐在家里的电影院，周游列国，针对同个目标讨论和评论。 仿佛时光回转到黑白时代，一家人在客厅看电视是唯一的娱乐，却无限融洽。

现在的流行乐大都这样， 我的感受如何如何， 没有了你我又如何如何。 那些关于阳光沙滩海浪的呢 或是蓝天白云绿绿草原 都过时了，阿姨 都过时了。 哦，是吗？ 坐在石头上 脚趾被浪花扯住不放 沙粒挠得我好痒，不禁 唱起了沙滩海浪的歌。 你不屑地瞧我一眼 都过时了，阿姨 都过时了。 啊，是哦？ 你举起自拍杆，扭扭身躯 看见了胖瘦美丑的自己 说何止这些 还有笑容和悲伤 傻气和发愣 还有一大堆设置不完的变化 无穷的创意啊 填海填得很远去了 海水也越来越浊了 阿姨确实也过时了 留下旧时的流行曲 和无法想象的想象。 都过时了，阿姨 都过时了。

The fluffy cat sat on my lap would reach out and scratch any cat with similar attempt. The cat, was a lovable one whilst the rest were either limping with a chipped ear or wounded, having too little to eat. Carrie Buck had to cut her Fallopian tubes "Three generations of imbeciles is enough." Said Holmes, a physician, a scholar of history, and a Humanist. It wasn't too long ago a century perhaps Some privilege decided the fate of the underprivileged while I stroke that lovable fluffy cat who is sitting on my lap reaching out her paws meows, "Look out for imbecile!" (~Reading "The Gene" by Siddhartha Mukherjee)

He no longer felt much about writing disintegrated, crumbled into pieces of self-deception, not having any opinion of his disconcerted life. However, he wrote to his sister about dividing up words those with the absence of truth and those far down the path of darkness not to be reach, at least for sometime. They don't amount to much, anyway, aesthetic and integrity because there has to be something compelling about the writings, than skimming on the surface of the water. To see words bathed in ignorance, he'd carefully covered his notepads let the words flickered on his computer screen until all had gone silent, not another word even from his sister. He looked up the sky contentedly, no more paper cups slipping away across the universe. Closed his eyes and reach out, for a moment he thought he grasped the cloud.

This McD I've never been around the corner where I renewed my passport while waiting, I decided to have a drink McD would be quick, and so I thought. I couldn't find the counter because nobody's behind it then two ladies giggled from nowhere and asked me what I need. I ordered a cappuccino cost me six fifty eagerly took out my collection card, but "We can't give you stamps, we only serve drinks." I shrugged and wondered if an apple pie might set things right these girls nodded but asked me to wait Six minutes the most that's what they promised and so I waited six and six and six minutes still. I finished my drink and it's about time Oh my, they had forgotten my dear apple pie! I asked for a refund and kept the bills guess it'll be just coffee and the ugly photo on my passport.

和你在树下闲聊 关于鱼的事 拇指还疼不疼 说起渔夫满手的伤痕 晚风是暖的，你用脚趾 轻轻推我的吊床 微晃的时候，我看见 许多个你 拿录影机的，握笔的 渔船上的，举起斧头的 被原住民围成一座城，还有 哄孩子睡觉的。 一阵晕眩，我赶紧稳住吊床 抬起头，这微笑太迷人。

I like French ham on my toast with some alfalfa on the side Like any other ordinary mornings a cow walks into it and sigh With its head down to see where to put his feet traveling 45 meters per minute on the hind leg of a pig Or cochon as they called it I too lowered my head took a big bite off the hind, and watched the cow stricken with panic Trying to find its way out the pig kicked the cow, so hard that it fell off the sandwich As I swallowed the gastro pedantry off to work I'm about.

I think I’m going blind, any time now the notes are going the clefs are going even the sharps and flats are going so are the slurs and staccatos. How about the chord symbols? they seem to have vanished Even the double barlines had abandoned me, what’s left are just memories of the good old songs Still linger on, like a dried leaf in a windy afternoon.

Venus de Milo 在灶上 断臂溶成了浆 我记得复杂的和弦关系 却忘了水 想不起怎样写一段 简单的旋律，于是 今早我烧坏了一个moka pot 即便她还是很美