I can’t help but read a pun on the name Kurt Weil in this passage.
Large music comes from books, vile or Oklahoma. Cows fly in movies
and dust heaps up mountains. If you like that sound, you can get it.
Net it from the air, siphon it into empty bottles and save it for a rainy day.
Have you heard of jazz? I like its movements, balance of speeds:
feels like stepping out the door into space. A scattering
that unifies dissonance and volume into a thick paste to spread on bread.
I like how the imaginative sweep settles on a quotidian image like spreading bread with something good to eat.
And so for day 2475