Saltations (Prose Poem In 3 Parts) Poem by Denis Mair

Part 1
Perhaps long and close interchange between any two living things will either tend toward genuine symbiosis or parasitism or a bastardized blend thereof. Among social beings it can result in grotesque forms of enslavement (and oppression) .There is no preset program for real symbiosis, and a lot of the time it must develop by improvisation. Who's to say that musical thinking didn't have its place in developing non-parasitic interchange among social beings. Expressivity would be one way. But you can't have expressiveness without abundant feelings, so... To the extent that you need non-oppressive social structures, you need feelings as glue... as an impetus for expression. To the extent that your feelings go into knitting a non-oppressive social structure, they have meaning beyond themselves. You can have feelings, but not necessarily to own them. I believe that the abundance and constant variety of music teaches us both to accept and to let go of feelings.

Part 2
When two organisms settle into trench warfare against each other, occasionally there will be random one-gene or two-gene mutations allowing one side to get the upper hand for awhile. However, this often carries a metabolic cost which the other side can exploit, because the other side can come up with a one-gene or two-gene move of its own. They trade punches and counter punches and the deadlock continues. Maybe one side gets an overwhelming advantage, but usually at a heavy cost to both. Or maybe along comes a saltation, as yet unexplained, whereupon multi-gene changes are symphonically coordinated, and the two sides leap into symbiosis. I can frame the problem in terms of biology, but in terms of music I dunno. Maybe it is a saltation to give one's attention to music in the first place. Maybe there are saltations on top of saltations, and you cruise on Saltation Sea, especially if you're eating Mandarin oranges while listening to a shakuhachi flute.

Part 3
There is something irreducible inside that wants to confide/be confided to, but it has to be content with riding along on plainer or commoner or cruder expressions, like a shadowy second presence. There is a lucky, momentary optimum in which the mind's half-finished explorations reach synergy. This is perhaps a fortuitous tide of neurotransmitters, sparked by pituitary secretions, or perhaps it was prepared for during long devotion to communicating subtly or experimentally. Emanations from such a mind may be further energized by contact with others who experience a similar state... All so fragile and insubstantial, yet some would stake hours of their corporeal life on this.