CW127

I remember writing “Focus On The Flute.” (It’s on Fresh Sip, from 2009.) It was the summer or fall—I guess fall—and I’d been in Brattleboro for about a year, in my Elliot St. studio for a little less.

Kyle and Luke Thomas shared the room next to me. Luke was in there that night. I remember I’d finished teaching and was writing. Luke knocked on my door to tell me he was leaving. I was at my desk with my guitar, partway done.

I knew I was going to finish, but the song felt a little convoluted. I felt a little dry while working—a workaday, soldiering-on feeling. It was very similar to how I felt writing “I Hear Harp!” in 2024. It had something to do, in both cases, with the form being tricky.

But both songs ended up being standouts for me later. They are both reminders not to pay too much attention to how I feel while writing. Just keep going.

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“Focus On The Flute” seems to be about meditating, although I wouldn’t really start meditating till seven years later, when I kicked weed. When I hear this song I picture a see-through column of air that both floats out in front of the meditator and is also the meditator’s breathing. And if the flute is an instrument, it’s in the wide sense. I don’t picture a Western concert flute. I picture the tin whistles, recorders, Venova, and (more recently—thank you, elie) soprano saxophone I would take up in earnest, along with meditation, in the coming years.

I bet “flute” came to me through the “deer” in the second line. I was likely vaguely thinking of Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun, the Debussy setting of Mallarmé that we studied at UNH. I’m actually just realizing the mix-up now: deer > fawn > faun. And the faun is playing panpipes which got me—I think all this is true—to the flute. 💕

“Focus On The Flute”

I can see you calling me
I can see you slumbering with deer
Time is really fear

I can feel the altitude
I can feel the magnitude of hell
Wish is such a well

Try to 
Try to
Try to
Try to
Focus on the flute
In the middle of the air
And when the demons rip you off try not to care
Every spell is broken but every spell is also always there

I can hear you calling me
I can hear my music in your song
But the tone is wrong

I can hear the holidays
Jangling like a necklace in my ear
Time is really fear

Try to 
Try to
Try to
Try to
Focus on the flute
In the middle of the air
And when the demons rip you off try not to care
Every spell is broken but every spell is also always there

Help me hold this cup
I can hear you calling me but
I’m not picking 

Try to
Try to 
Try to 
Try to
Focus on the flute

I can hear you calling me but
I’m not picking up