The Poison Pie Publishing House presents:

February 1, 2021
Far above the tree cover, clouds gathered, hinting at rain, though only a fine mist materialized. The suspended droplets glistened, accentuating the features of the swamp. Verdant hues of tree and fern were saturated with life. Shadows darkened, shunning light, while the few sunbeams, which penetrated the canopy, emanated a brilliance at odds with the overcast skies. These visual anomalies proved sufficient to alert Periboea that she now entered a realm of ancient magic. She possessed no familiarity with the arcane but she had survived her own extended battle with uncertainty, so she proceeded with an equanimity that we might otherwise deem undeserved.

written while listening to:  Alexandra Grimal - Kankū (ONJ Records, JF005, 2017, France, cd, discogs.com)

February 2, 2021
Periboea tread softly so as not to disturb the soundscape of the swamp. Although the tree frogs and crickets, which dominated the dusk and nocturnal acoustics, were silent, no shortage of other performers took the opportunity to fill the daylight hours with song. The belches of bullfrogs reverberated across the water. The tittering cries of unseen birds heralded her passage. She recognized the mechanical clicking of a kingfisher. The sough of the wind through the upper branches sifted down to soothe those below, Periboea notwithstanding, into a dreamy reverie. She jumped at the abrupt battering of a woodpecker with an ivory bill.

written while listening to:  Company - 1983 (Honest Jon's Records, HJRLP215, 2020 (rec. 1983), United Kingdom, lpx2, discogs.com)

February 3, 2021
When Periboea caught the smell of smoke, she cautiously proceeded toward it. She discovered a dense mound of smoldering, vegetative matter. Threads of smoke escaped through cracks in the packed soil. Perhaps the fire originated through natural decay, but she admitted the possibility that a denizen of the swamp had buried something here. Finding no one present, she continued her journey until she came upon a great arch with columns formed by the trunks of two venerable hickories and the vaulted apex outlined by their branches. At first glance, the swamp on either side appeared indistinguishable. As she moved to pass through the gateway, she detected carvings in the bark.

written while listening to:  Matthew Shipp Trio & Nicole Mitchell - All Things Are (RogueArt, ROG-0088, 2019, France, cd, discogs.com)

February 4, 2021
The markings cut into the tree formed unrecognizable characters. Periboea doubted that they represented language. The strangely warped symbols, stretching from the base of the trunk up to its heights, more likely were ideograms intended to convey a message to travelers literate and illiterate alike. As Periboea attempted to decipher their significance, she found them both inviting and ominous. Eventually, she suspected that the carvings were intended to mislead. The stylized representation of men in anguish before a monstrous shape would not be taken literally, save by one who had known terror of this kind. To declare obscenity openly is to deceive, since convention interprets such statements as jest.

written while listening to:  Mette Rasmussen & Chris Corsano - All the Ghosts at Once (Relative Pitch Records, RPR1037, 2015, United States, cd, discogs.com)

February 5, 2021
Without elaborate ceremony, Periboea passed through the gateway. The mist had settled on her dark brown hair, her bare shoulders and garment, endowing her with the same glistening luster possessed by the swamp flora. It had not taken her long to be absorbed, though we do not seek to exaggerate her role in the matter. Much of what came to pass for Periboea transpired through an inextricable weaving of self-definition and circumstance. Already the colors of sunset tinged the western sky, initiating a change in the orchestration of the swamp. A pinkish-orange light fell against her cheek, painting her no less than any other feature of the landscape.

written while listening to:  Taylor Ho Bynum 9-tette - The Ambiguity Manifesto (Firehouse 12 Records, FH12-04-08-032, 2019, United States, lpx2, discogs.com)

February 6, 2021
Periboea sought some minimal shelter, naught more than a relatively dry nook against a tree, in which she could curl beneath the blanket. Her search proved fruitless as the shadows lengthened, until a somber darkness had descended. Judging her sensible enough to avoid wandering alone at night, the custodian had not armed her with torches. She inadvertently stepped in a puddle, soaking a sandal and foot. She whispered a curse. Abruptly, she spotted between the trees a pale green light, bobbing as if it shone from a lantern carried by a traveler. Despite the unusual color, she called out, supposing that she had stumbled upon one of the custodian's neighbors.

written while listening to:  Kazuhisa Uchihashi, Noid & Tamara Wilhelm - I Hope It Doesn't Work (Mikroton Recordings, mikroton cd 28, 2014, Russia, cd, discogs.com)

February 7, 2021
Periboea alternated her pace between hurrying to catch up to the light and slowing herself to avoid stumbling over roots in the dark, or worse yet, falling into a hidden pool. Of course, she should have been more vigilant. The glow emanated an unearthly hue, a green fire being no more natural than emerald skies or blood the shade of lime, but its movement was perfectly choreographed to the ordinary coordination of arms and legs in the process of ambulation. As a result, it dawned upon Periboea too late that she followed a lure into a trap.

written while listening to:  Vijay Iyer & Craig Taborn - The Transitory Poems (ECM Records, ECM 2644, 2019, Germany, cd, discogs.com)

February 8, 2021
The will-o'-wisp danced alluringly to an ethereal melody beyond the range of Periboea's mortal ears. It led her along a shadowed path before emerging in a clearing of cordgrass and shallow, crooked sloughs. She came within a dozen feet of the light until it darted across a fallen log, which formed a bridge to a small island, bereft of trees.

By now Periboea recognized her otherworldly quarry, for she had seen the light freely hovering. Warily, she crossed the slick log. Having heard the legend of will-o'-wisps dwelling in the margin between the worlds of the living and the dead, she succumbed to the temptation to view its secret realm.

written while listening to:  Isabelle Duthoit, Axel Dörner, Matthias Müller & Roy Carroll - The Monophonic Havel (Mamü Music, #2, 2018, Germany, digital files, discogs.com)

February 9, 2021
In truth Periboea supposed that the will-o'-wisp served no master save its own gluttonous appetite for doom. She expected to discover in a dank grotto a treasure trove composed of the belongings of the creature's previous victims. Perhaps there she might find a magic sword, an object she secretly desired. In her dreams, a xiphos, which flamed upon command and endowed her with the gift of flight, would prove quite useful in her quest for revenge.

As it turned out, the will-o'-wisp was allied with another being. Rather than a hoard of gold, Periboea was led to a diminutive woman seated on a stone at the crest of the island.

written while listening to:  Masayoshi Urabe - What Hasn't Come Here, COME! (Relative Pitch Records, RPRSS002, 2019, United States, cd, discogs.com)

February 10, 2021
The will-o'-wisp nuzzled the woman as an affectionate puppy would its loving mistress. She and Periboea took a moment to examine each other. Ragged and out of breath, Periboea imagined that she struck a poor figure, especially beside her remarkable host. The woman possessed a regal aspect; even the crude stone upon which she sat appeared as a throne. She was clothed exclusively in her own long, golden tresses, which fell past her shoulders, partially covering her breasts before gathering in her lap and continuing to her calves. Neither too slender nor too plump, the proportions of her body seemed an exquisite paragon of organic geometry in miniature.

written while listening to:  Cecil Taylor - Garden 1^st Set (hatOLOGY, hatOLOGY 719, 2015 (rec. 1981), Switzerland, cd, discogs.com)

February 11, 2021
The color of the woman's skin was no less marvelous than the rest of her appearance, being a mixture of apricot and silver, mottled and veined as if worn by an ordinary creature animated by a beating heart. Each feature contributed to a harmonious whole; only the tiny scale of the woman gave Periboea pause. She recalled as a child, having a doll with flaxen hair, bigger, in memory, than her present host. Meanwhile, the will-o'-wisp whirled excitedly about the pair. Periboea concluded that she stood in the presence of not one but two spirits of the swamp.

written while listening to:  Don Cherry, Dave Holland, Steve Lacy & Masahiko Togashi - Live At Yubin Chokin Kaikan Hall, Tokyo on May 14, 1986 (Victory, V25AH986, 2019 (rec. 1986), Italy, lp, discogs.com)

February 12, 2021
"You may address the court," announced the woman in a mellifluous voice of lower pitch than Periboea had expected. The hint of a sly smirk punctuated these haughty words, prompting Periboea to suspect that they were both cast in roles of an impromptu drama.

Our heroine possessed only the faintest notion of the classification of faeries. The taxonomy, which recognized the courts of the Seelie and Unseelie, were foreign to her. Still, she had experienced enough human behavior to trust her internal compass in the discernment of benevolence and malice. For the moment, she withheld judgment, allowing the performance to play out.

written while listening to:  Greg Goodman & John Gruntfest - In This Land All The Birds Wore Hats And Spurs (The Beak Doctor, BD9, 2017, United States, lp, discogs.com)

February 13, 2021
"I am Periboea, recently arrived in this swamp." She was again conscious of her own humble state compared to the resplendence of her host. She drew some comfort from the rough stone that served as the throne, though perhaps she misunderstood its significance. In a landscape where all was watery muck and rock a scarcity, this chair might represent a symbol of prestige. To lend credence to this idea, beside the woman was placed a second formless stone, greater in size, its coarse surface caked with mud and green with algae. Rising almost to Periboea's shoulders, it stood as a kind of immobile sentinel attending royalty.

written while listening to:  Signe Emmeluth - Hi Hello I'm Signe (Relative Pitch Records, RPR1113, 2021, United States, cd, discogs.com)

February 14, 2021
"From where do you hail, Periboea?" queried the woman.

"Athens is my home."

The faerie glanced first at the will-o'-wisp then the stone beside her. Apparently neither proffered helpful information for she declared, "Athens? Never heard of it. Has it recently been founded? Upon which side of the Silver Curtain does it lie?"

"I suppose it's rather old," Periboea admitted, finding it implausible that anyone, no matter how remote, should not have heard of the glory of Athens, jewel of the Aegean. As for curtains of any color, she preferred not to reveal her ignorance. "It lies far on the other side," she said, for that is how she felt.

written while listening to:  Taavi Kerikmäe & Mart Soo - +1 (MKDK Records, MKDKCD0018, 2007, Estonia, cd, discogs.com)

February 15, 2021
"What tribute have you brought the court from Athens?" asked the faerie as her incandescent companion danced above her, framed against a tapestry of stars.

Periboea found this an unfair question. More than a year had passed since she had been taken against her will from Athens. Although she had not described the hardships, which had waylaid her since then, she felt that her modest appearance made obvious her limited means. She resolved to admit no sign of weakness. "I am a warrior," she declared, "I offer my services to clear this land of what monsters may prey upon it."

written while listening to:  Mary Halvorson & John Dieterich - A Tangle of Stars (New Amsterdam Records, no catalog #, 2019, United States, cd, discogs.com)

February 16, 2021
The stone apparently served not only as throne but dais as well, for the woman leapt lightly to her feet and shrieked with delight, "Just as I thought, a fierce huntress of beasts!" She jabbed a petite finger at the knife tied by a cord to Periboea's waist. "Your blade is iron forged, is it not?"

Periboea had expected that her claim to martial prowess would meet with doubt. That it was instead enthusiastically embraced took her aback. She nodded in answer to the faerie's question, then added, more or less to fill the ensuing silence, "Iron it is."

The woman rejoiced, "Long have we dreamt of your coming!"

written while listening to:  Ivo Perelman & Matthew Shipp - Efflorescence Volume 1, disc 1 (Leo Records, CD LR 866-869, 2019, United Kingdom, cdx4, discogs.com)

February 17, 2021
The faerie widened her arms expansively, prompting the will-o'-wisp to hover over an open palm, while she declared, "There is a great and terrible beast that stalks our kingdom. For eons, it slept unperturbed, buried deep beneath the blanketing mud and still pools of the swamp." She fixed Periboea with a gaze that revealed the silver irises of her inhuman eyes. "That is, until your kind came to the swamp. We paid them no more mind than due a pair of ibis seeking a nesting spot. Unwatched, they woke the beast. It pleases our sense of symmetry that one of your kind should return it to a dark slumber."

written while listening to:  Lotte Anker, Craig Taborn & Gerald Cleaver - Floating Islands (Pladeselskabet Centrifuga/Insula Music/ILK Music, FUGA-201806/insulamusic_17LP/ILK162LP, 2018 (orig. 2009), Denmark, lp, discogs.com)

February 18, 2021
Once driven to speak, the faerie's voice rang out in the night chill, filling the island clearing until it reached the surrounding barrier of trees. She seemed taken with her song and, finding Periboea a rapt audience, continued in a lusty voice. "Their rousing of the beast was no mere accident. They craved immortality and thought nothing of the corruption of their flesh to obtain it." Dancing about her, the will-o'-wisp found the woman a willing partner. She executed a pirouette. Coming to rest facing Periboea, she asked, "What miracle in your nature grants you immunity to the same debasement?"

written while listening to:  Lester Bowie's Brass Fantasy - I Only Have Eyes For You (ECM Records, ECM 1296, 1985, Germany, lp, discogs.com)

February 19, 2021
Periboea had not supposed that she harbored a miracle. She had survived thus far largely by her wits. It was true that, driven by circumstance, she had demonstrated an uncommon valor, relative, at least in her experience, to other teenage girls. She was carried away by the theatrics of the faerie, so we must forgive her embellishment as she replied, "I have access to an inexhaustible well of courage. My immortality shall be written in the carnage I leave of your beast."

written while listening to:  Fred Van Hove - At 80, disc 3 (Dropa Disc, DD#006, 2019, Belgium, cdx3+book, discogs.com)

February 20, 2021
The faerie squealed with pleasure at this announcement. Beckoning Periboea to approach her, she impulsively reached for the girl's hands. Her grasp was able only to wrap around the index fingers of each hand. Amidst the winter chill, her touch was cool on Periboea's flesh. She led her guest in a kind of dance, constrained by a variety of factors, including their differences in stature, her insistence on remaining atop her throne/dais and the presence of the second larger stone beside it. Nonetheless, with the participation of the will-o'-wisp overhead, they bounced and swayed through the steps of a wild rumpus.

written while listening to:  Jean-Jacques Birgé - pique-nique au labo, disc 1 (GRRR, GRRR 2031-32, 2020, France, cdx2, discogs.com)

February 21, 2021
The dance continued though Periboea's interest gradually lagged and her muscles grew sore. The faerie seemed oblivious to the passage of time until the silver of a waning, crescent moon appeared late in the night. At this signal, she immediately released Periboea's hands. Withdrawing a step, she regained her composure. With arms folded across her chest, she announced, "I suppose that I should let you get on with it then." There could be no mistaking the dismissal.

Periboea looked in confusion from her host to the sky, wondering how the sliver of light had induced so abrupt a decline in hospitality.

written while listening to:  Wadada Leo Smith - Rosa Parks: Pure Love (TUM Records, TUM CD 057, 2019, Finland, cd, discogs.com)

February 22, 2021
Finding Periboea still standing before her, the faerie resumed her seat on the stone. She hoped to indicate by this action that the audience was over. When this gesture proved insufficient, she was forced into the distasteful role of speaking clearly. "You've made your oath," she said. "I've accepted your service." As if nothing could be more simple, she added a final instruction, "Slay the beast!"

Hearing her words described as an oath weighed heavily on Periboea. Faeries were notorious tricksters. In getting caught up in the drama, had she allowed herself to be deceived into arranging her own death?

written while listening to:  Stephan Crump, Ingrid Laubrock & Cory Smythe - Channels (Intakt Records, Intakt CD 319, 2019, Switzerland, cd, discogs.com)

February 23, 2021
Then Periboea felt very much alone on that moonlit island with the wicked faerie and the will-o'-wisp. Rather than reduce her to tears, the turn of events triggered an internal resilience, for Periboea had been alone before and in far more dire circumstances. She had already danced with the creature now before her. Her previous foe would have sooner devoured her than engaged in such frivolous games. "If I am to fulfill my oath expeditiously, you would do well to share what knowledge you have of the beast. Where does it lurk? What form does it take?" She imagined perhaps a great, reticulated serpent.

written while listening to:  Matana Roberts - Always. (Relative Pitch Records, RPR1036, 2015, United States, cd, discogs.com)

February 24, 2021
Clearly, the faerie deemed it beneath her station to be bothered with such petty details as providing a description of the beast. She straightened herself up to her full height, modest though it was, and somewhat peevishly announced, "You have managed to interrupt my dalliance and now morning draws near; it shall have to be postponed."

Periboea understood neither how these words responded to her query nor the identity of the intended subject of the faerie's interest. Before she could speak, the woman continued, "Since you are in need of further instruction, return here tomorrow night and I shall arrange to have you tutored."

written while listening to:  Dave Rempis, Joshua Abrams, Avreeayl Ra & Jim Baker - Apsis (Aerophonic Records, AR022, 2019, United States, cd, discogs.com)

February 25, 2021
The faerie turned her back to Periboea. The will-o'-wisp hovered before her, blocked from Periboea's sight. Its green blaze created a shapely silhouette of the faerie's petite form. Where her long hair spread out from her body, the light wove through the locks, producing a luminous halo. Enveloped within this nimbus, the woman appeared wholly dreamlike. Periboea remembered walking across the slick log that connected the island to the rest of the swamp but when she woke, chilled to the bone, she found herself lying on the damp earth but a few yards from the pair of stones, her blanket packed uselessly away.

written while listening to:  Okkyung Lee & Bill Orcutt - Live at Cafe Oto (Otoroku, ROKU 017LP, 2016, United Kingdom, lp, discogs.com)

February 26, 2021
Cloaked in morning fog, Periboea rubbed her limbs to warm them and kept a brisk pace as she visited bromeliads. She drank their dew, so as not to deplete her water supply. Certainly, she was concerned about retracing her steps to the island clearing. To this end, she used her knife to mark the trunks of trees with arrows outlining a return path. At midday, she tested the efficacy of her work, following one mark back to the previous one. There, to her astonishment, she discovered that her arrow had taken on the form of the symbols, which had adorned the arboreal gateway to this portion of the swamp.

written while listening to:  Rob Burke, George Lewis, Paul Grabowsky & Mark Helias - Shift (FMR Records, FMRCD441-0217, 2017 (rec. 2014), United Kingdom, cd, discogs.com)

February 27, 2021
Not one but each of her simple marks, while crude from the start, had been warped. The shaft of the arrow split into two crooked legs. The angled sides of the arrowhead had elongated into taut arms and each point was distended into a bulbous face with contorted features. It seemed as if the trees had rearranged the pattern of their bark so as to twist her marks into something that projected misery, if not terror. That Periboea had no choice but to follow these misshapen signs to their logical end, if she was to find her way back to the island, was not lost on her.

written while listening to:  Golem Mecanique - Nona, Decima Et Morta (Ideologic Organ, SOMA033, 2020, France, lp, discogs.com)

February 28, 2021
Periboea did not dismiss the value of a day unfettered by fear. Although she had no engagement until nightfall, she sought to pass the daylight hours in a way that squandered neither her limited time on Earth nor the passive munificence of the swamp. She spotted her first snake, propelling itself across the surface of still water with the ordinary undulations of its kind. It fled as quickly as it appeared. No longer than her outstretched leg, it was no monster, just a fellow denizen of the swamp. The recognition of this kinship buoyed her spirits. She ate conservatively of the custodian's rations to the accompaniment of birdsong.

written while listening to:  Instant Composer's Pool Tentet - Tetterettet (Corbett vs. Dempsey, CvsD | CD060, 2019 (rec. 1977), United States, cd, discogs.com)