The Poison Pie Publishing House presents:

September 1, 2021
After her failed attempts to locate the temple over the previous two days, Periboea should have been suspicious at the ease with which she returned to the canal, but no such doubts crossed her mind. Perhaps, the presence of the xiphos clouded her judgment, filling her with a false sense of optimism and empowerment. Alternatively, it may very well be that this belief in herself, justified or not, was an established trait, essential to her survival in the labyrinth and, in all likelihood, no less valuable once she entered the temple.

written while listening to:  Alexandra Grimal & Benjamin Duboc - Le Retour d'Ulysse [Promenade], disc 1 (Improvised Beings, ib32, 2015, France, cdx2, discogs.com)

September 2, 2021
From behind a tree, Periboea spied upon the canal but found no sign of the inhabitants who had been present in great numbers during her earlier visit. Eventually she emerged from the shadows and stood openly on the stone wall lining the channel. The water was dark and placid. A jagged streak of sunlight glimmered on the surface, where the canopy of trees, stretching from either bank, was incomplete. She paced along the ledge, balancing as she walked. A vision of a scaly hand, suddenly emerging to grab her ankle, prompted her to shift her path away from the water.

written while listening to:  Mark Trecka & Susan Alcorn / Midwife & Amulets - In / Heaven (Flenser Records, FR112, 2020, United States, cassette, discogs.com)

September 3, 2021
The temple loomed ahead of her. One could not say that the stones which formed the structure had been arranged haphazardly but the geometry of their placement conformed to no traditional architecture. The builders appeared to have surrendered to the advance of the swamp before construction was complete, for the walls formed concave curves against which the foliage of the swamp relentlessly pressed. The canal continued beneath the side of the building facing her. No opening appeared to allow a boat to enter. She would have to dive beneath the surface if she were to access the temple from this direction.

written while listening to:  Tomas Fujiwara, Patricia Brennan & Tomeka Reid - 7 Poets Trio (RogueArt, ROG-0095, 2019, France, cd, discogs.com)

September 4, 2021
She did not relish the notion of re-entering the water and opted to first circumnavigate the building, if there proved a way to cross the canal on the far side of the temple. She proceeded without incident along the crooked length of the channel until she reached the building. Much of the stone was covered in an unbroken layer of velvety moss, which glowed with an impossibly green hue in the shadows. It followed the contours of each rock and softened the angles between them. Spherical beads of moisture had condensed on the minute leaves. Gently laying a hand upon it, the moss felt cool and damp to Periboea's touch.

written while listening to:  Nicole Mitchell & Moor Mother - Offering (Don Giovanni Records, DG216, 2020, United States, cd, discogs.com)

September 5, 2021
Weaving between old trees, she walked along the side of the building. The leaf debris showed little sign of traffic; she did not travel a route well-worn by man or turtle-woman. The wall to her right possessed no windows accessible to her. Far above, at a height exceeding the crown of trees, it appeared that apertures might allow light into the interior. It was difficult to confirm from her perspective. The irregular placement of stone filled the wall with features, many of which were merely shallow indentations and niches, providing shelter to birds in rough weather.

written while listening to:  Thumbscrew (Michael Formanek, Tomas Fujiwara & Mary Halvorson) - Convallaria (Cuneiform Records, Rune 415, 2016, United States, cd, discogs.com)

September 6, 2021
In the light of the sun, the temple did not fill Periboea with dread. It was just a stone building, lacking the grandeur imparted by Athenian precision and symmetry. Either the builders had been constrained by the limits of their skills and the materials at their disposal, or the god, whom this temple honored, had directed them to purposefully eschew harmony and esthetics of design. In any case, the building conveyed to her a sense of poverty in its construction and abandonment in its maintenance. The neglect hinted ominously at debased rituals conducted within its walls.

written while listening to:  Tom Rainey Trio with Ingrid Laubrock & Mary Halvorson - Combobulated (Intakt Records, Intakt CD 316, 2019, Switzerland, cd, discogs.com)

September 7, 2021
Rounding the corner of the building, Periboea perceived what was clearly the front entrance of the temple. The canal apparently ended in the interior, for no channel emerged on the far side, though the ground was especially sodden. Water rose several inches onto her boots, but the treated leather kept her feet dry, at least for the moment. Absent any clearing, Periboea scrutinized the entrance from the company of numerous trees, rooted like her in the shallow, murky pool. Wide slab-like stairs rose gradually to a rough opening that as yet revealed only shadow.

written while listening to:  Joëlle Léandre & Zlatko Kaučič - Beauty / Resistance, disc 2 (Not Two Records, MW 1013-2, 2021, Poland, cdx3, discogs.com)

September 8, 2021
We cannot fault Periboea if she instinctively interpreted in the crude face of the building a savagery and violence. Indeed, such thoughts flitted through her mind as she gazed upon the dark tower of stone rising unevenly to a central arch. From this angle, the building recalled not so much the dome of a church as it did an immense barrow erected over the remains of a gargantuan beast. The idea that the cultists celebrated their rites in a structure more akin to a tomb than a temple prompted Periboea to think more deeply about the nature of her foe.

written while listening to:  Ellen Fullman - Music for the Man who Grew Common in Wisdom (besom presse, BP04, 2020, United States, lp, discogs.com)

September 9, 2021
Death, of course, was the inevitable end of the human experience. That a people should celebrate at the conclusion of long lives of loved ones—and grieve if the life had been cut short—was an essential part of their mortal nature. Her response then, to this colossal barrow reflected a rejection not so much of the terms of her existence as it did the apparent embrace, embodied in this structure, of the attempt to thwart the natural cycle, summoning a power, which had been dead, to share in its violation of universal laws.

written while listening to:  Pauline Oliveros - The Wanderer (Important Records, imprec141, 2007 (orig. 1984), United States, cd, discogs.com)

September 10, 2021
The temple beckoned. With her hand on the hilt of the xiphos, Periboea climbed the stairs and, without pausing, entered the open maw of the temple, as if she were content to be swallowed by the darkness. There can be no doubt that this entry reminded her of an earlier occasion when she, one in a line of maidens each arranged beside a young man, had been ushered by Cretan soldiers into the mouth of the labyrinth. Despite her present solitude, she deemed this moment a victory for she entered under no compulsion save the force of her own will.

written while listening to:  Éliane Radigue - Œuvres Électroniques, disc 3: Ψ 847 (Version Concert) (INA-GRM, INA 6060/74, 2018 (rec. 2012), France, cdx14, discogs.com)

September 11, 2021
Before her eyes adjusted, she was overwhelmed by an odor of dankness and decay, distilled within these walls into a sickly perfume. The smell had no clear source but permeated the temple, hanging in the clammy air. She coughed to clear her lungs without effect. Eventually, her vision returned. There were indeed windows high above, though by design or dilapidation she did not know, which allowed a few beams of sunlight to illuminate the interior. She found herself within a single hollow chamber wider than the canal and higher than the crown of the oaks and hickories that surrounded it.

written while listening to:  Harry Bertoia - Sonambient Complete Collection, disc 1: Space Voyage / Echoes of Other Times (Important Records, IMPREC419, 2016 (rec. 1978), United States, cdx11, discogs.com)

September 12, 2021
The interior of the temple was not organized like any holy place that Periboea had visited. No statues lined the walls. Nor was there a raised platform upon which a priest could admonish the congregation. The vast majority of the floorspace was occupied by a circular pool, lined by six concentric steps completely surrounding it, which descended to the level of the canal. The water, already dark in the noonday sun, appeared as an opaque, black fluid in the dim light of the temple. There was little doubt in Periboea's mind that from this spot the beast arose in answer to the cultists' summons.

written while listening to:  Paul Panhuysen - Pendulum Change Ringing (Edition Telemark, 314.03, 2014, Germany, lp, discogs.com)

September 13, 2021
The foul odor played tricks with her senses. The longer she breathed it, the more sluggish she felt, though her conscious mind identified this effect without registering it as a threat. Had the beast erupted from the pool in that moment, Periboea would have had little defense against it. Standing silently, she concentrated on listening. The sounds that should have followed her into the temple—the wind in the trees, the odd call of startled waterfowl—had vanished. She heard only the gentle lapping of the water at the stone lip of the pool. As there was no current at this terminus, the source of the ripple remained a mystery.

written while listening to:  Matthew Shipp - The Reward, sides A & B (RogueArt, ROG-0106, 2020, France, lpx2, discogs.com)

September 14, 2021
Cautiously she approached the water, descending first one step then a second, though she dared approach no nearer. Her reflection kept pace, as she walked the circumference of the pool. She imagined the creatures that had lined the canal gathering here to recline on these wide stone steps in anticipation of their lord's coming. At the rear of the temple, farthest from the entrance, her eyes could not penetrate the unbroken darkness. The stone floor felt solid, though she knew from her external inspection that the canal connected beneath her feet to this pool.

written while listening to:  Il Sogno - Graduation, sides A & B (AUAND/Gotta Let It Out, AU5016/GLIO47LP, 2021, Italy/Denmark, lpx2, discogs.com)

September 15, 2021
Periboea succumbed briefly to a dizzy spell. It was only when she contemplated resting for a moment on the stone steps did she realize that something was dreadfully wrong. Immediately, she sought to make her way toward the exit. The pool loomed ominously between her present position and the seemingly distant portal of light. Intending to go around it, she abruptly discovered that her balance was unsteady. With one stride, she stumbled down to the third step. Fearing that she might fall further into the depths of the pool, she paused to collect herself.

written while listening to:  Michel Doneda, Frédéric Blondy & Tetsu Saitoh - Spring Road 16 (Relative Pitch Records, RPR1121, 2021, United States, cd, discogs.com)

September 16, 2021
"Lay down, my child," said a man's voice from the darkness. "Rest for a moment here in the cool shade of this sanctuary, for you have journeyed far and are in need of respite." Periboea detected the honey in the words and knew well to reject them but her body seemed inclined to accept his suggestion. Her legs felt as heavy as iron. With great effort she managed to regain her feet. She stared into the shadow at the rear of the temple and perceived no sign of the temple priest, whose voice coaxed her to her doom.

written while listening to:  Susie Ibarra - Talking Gong (New Focus Recordings, FCR271, 2021, United States, lp, discogs.com)

September 17, 2021
"Show yourself," she called. Periboea had intended to speak commandingly but, even to her own ears, she heard only a plaintive plea.

The voice chuckled unpleasantly. A figure stepped forward from the depths of the shadow to stand adjacent to a slanted beam of light, which illuminated only his feet and the black robe that hung to his ankles. His face remained hidden. "Your words have no power in this holy place," he said. "Such authority is reserved for those who serve the master of the temple." To demonstrate, he declared, "You will say no more."

written while listening to:  Roscoe Mitchell Quintet - Turn (RogueArt, ROG-0003, 2005, France, cd, discogs.com)

September 18, 2021
Periboea discovered that she was unable to voice a rebuttal. Her mouth would not expel the curse that formed on the tip of her tongue. Her head swam with the perfume of decay; the high priest's spell of silence seemed inseparable from the sickly fragrance upon which it was carried. If she could not speak words, she would release a shriek of rage but this expression too, she soon discovered, had been taken from her. The air filled her lungs to scream but trickled out listlessly like water from a deflated skin.

written while listening to:  Han Bennink & Willem Breuker - New Acoustic Swing Duo, disc 2 (Corbett vs. Dempsey, CvsD | CD066, 2019 (rec. 1967 & 1968), United States, cdx2, discogs.com)

September 19, 2021
Her strength fled and she collapsed on the stone slab. Too late did she concede that the temple air was drugged. While she sought within herself some hidden reservoir of strength, the high priest took another step forward, so that the ray of light fell upon his face. He pulled back his hood to gloat, we suppose. From her lower vantage, Periboea perceived the deep creases in his brow and around his mouth. Rather than a triumphant aspect, he bore a mien of dissatisfaction, as if his dreams of glory were not entirely fulfilled by his servant's role, no matter its relative prestige.

written while listening to:  Wadada Leo Smith - Trumpet, disc 2 (TUM Records, TUM BOX 002, 2021, Finland, cdx3, discogs.com)

September 20, 2021
The high priest was at the end of middle-age and bald, though his jaw bore a full beard streaked with gray. Beneath bushy eyebrows, his deep-set eyes contained experience tinged not with wisdom but malice. He did not strike her as one who had ever possessed an athletic build and now his robes poorly hid a modest paunch. He took another step and Periboea saw in his tentative movements an intimation of the ache of age. What authority he commanded did not spring from his own being.

written while listening to:  Evan Parker Trio & Peter Brötzmann Trio - The Bishop's Move (Les Disques Victo, VICTO CD 093, 2004, Canada, cd, discogs.com)

September 21, 2021
The priest descended to the second step. When he stood above her, Periboea saw that he carried a copper chalice, embossed with winding designs unclear in the dim light—perhaps the form of a serpent coiled about the cup, perhaps vines. He walked past her and proceeded down to the sixth step, which lined the pool. Crouching, he scooped water in the chalice, before returning to tower above his victim. He gazed at the circle of fluid and seemed to lose himself. Without facing her, he murmured, "You, who have entered the temple of your own free will, must now drink of this nuptial wine."

written while listening to:  Masada - Alef (DIW, DIW-888, 1994, Japan, cd, discogs.com)

September 22, 2021
He began to mumble to himself, first erratically but soon his words acquired a rhythm, which rose in volume to fill the temple chamber with a chant. The language was unfamiliar to Periboea and likely equally strange to any not versed in the esoteric art of summoning other-worldly beasts from long slumber. Without understanding, she intuited the ill intent in the spell. It appeared that the priest deemed her paralysis an inadequate indisposition; he would discomfit her further with the contents of his chalice laden with dark magic.

written while listening to:  Anna Webber - Idiom, disc 1 (Pi Recordings, PI89, 2021, United States, cdx2, discogs.com)

September 23, 2021
He descended to the third step and knelt beside her. With the chalice in his left hand, he placed his cold right hand at the base of her neck, tilting her head so that he might pour the unholy elixir into her mouth. By his slow, methodical motions, it was made clear that the priest perceived no strength in her. That she would drink unwillingly of his draught seemed to Periboea an inevitability, but her antagonist paused, sniffing the air like a dog, as if another odor could penetrate the pervasive perfume of decay.

written while listening to:  The Music Improvisation Company - 1969, 1970 (Honest Jon's Records, HJRLP209, 2019 (rec. 1969 & 1970), United Kingdom, lpx2, discogs.com)

September 24, 2021
When he detected the scent of the beast already upon her, the priest could not hide his astonishment. He stared down at the girl lying before him and, though he fully expected that she could not respond, asked, "How can this be? Who blessed you in this way?" Of course, Periboea could no more read his thoughts than she could move her limbs but she plainly perceived the doubt borne on his face and in his words. His query cleared the fog from her mind, as she sought to recall the source of the touch which now so alarmed her tormentor.

written while listening to:  George Lewis & Roscoe Mitchell - Voyage and Homecoming (RogueArt, ROG-0086, 2019, France, cd, discogs.com)

September 25, 2021
She had grappled with the turtle-woman on the bank of the canal as well as within its waters. No interpretation of that encounter, no matter how liberal, could cast it as a blessing. Her thoughts settled on her tutor, the frog man, who had spilled his blood on her as she tended to his wound. Had he not called that baptism a blessing, though he had claimed its value lay in masking her scent? Perhaps, the laconic Ridibundus had not revealed the full extent of the exchange. Regardless, Periboea sought to exploit the priest's momentary uncertainty.

written while listening to:  Ran Blake with Ricky Ford & Steve Lacy - That Certain Feeling (hatOLOGY, hatOLOGY 699, 2010 (rec. 1990), Switzerland, cd, discogs.com)

September 26, 2021
Periboea was energized as much by the priest's hesitancy as by the possibility of the frog man's aid. Through the power of suggestion, she found within herself the strength to unravel, if only a little, the combined effects upon her muscles of the temple perfume and the paralyzing spell. As he shifted the chalice to her lips, she jerked her arm upward and swatted the cup away. Its contents spilled on her chin and neck, though she lamented that a few drops splashed into her mouth. The copper vessel clanged noisily against the stone steps twice then rolled into the pool, disappearing with a forlorn plop.

written while listening to:  Muhal Richard Abrams - Blu Blu Blu (Black Saint, 120 117-2, 1991, Italy, cd, discogs.com)

September 27, 2021
With one successful movement, others followed. She shoved the priest crouching beside her. He lost his balance, falling backward to a sitting position on the stone. She staggered to her feet. The priest, however, did not immediately rise. He observed her with an incredulous look on his face, which displayed, though Periboea could scarcely believe it, a look of hurt betrayal, as if she had done him some grievous wrong. She yearned to scream words of justice but held her breath for fear of inhaling more of the temple's tainted perfume.

written while listening to:  Lawrence "Butch" Morris - Testament: A Conduction Collection, disc 3: Conduction #22 (New World Records/CounterCurrents, 80478-2, 1995, United States, cdx10+book, discogs.com)

September 28, 2021
She had, in that moment, a choice between drawing her sword or fleeing the temple. It cannot be argued that the priest was in a vulnerable position. A host of amphibious animal-people had not appeared from the shadows to defend their holy man. There was nothing stopping her from plunging her sword into his breast and drawing forth a red bloom. Still, she had taken an oath to slay a beast and the man before her was not that creature. No pledge held her to the ending of his life.

written while listening to:  Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou - Éthiopiques 21: Piano Solo (Buda Musique, 860122, 2006 (rec. 1963, 1970 & 1996), France, cd, discogs.com)

September 29, 2021
She lurched toward the exit. The sunlit portal was blurred in her eyes and jumped erratically with each unsteady step toward it. Staggering across the stone floor, she felt time distend as if in a dream until she burst from the temple, only to be blinded by the intensity of the sun. Though she feared to faint, she ran headlong through the shallow water, splashing with each step. Trees appeared in her clouded vision as vertical gray tendrils; she dodged them as she raced past. That her exhibition of courage would contain so many episodes of retreat had not previously occurred to her.

written while listening to:  Don Pullen, Joseph Jarman & Don Moye - The Magic Triangle (Black Saint, BSR 0038, 1979, Italy, lp, discogs.com)

September 30, 2021
Behind her, in the shadows within the barrow, an ominous current circled on the surface of the pool. Something moved in the depths. No one save the high priest remained to observe it and he required no special insight to perceive the portent, which it signified. The aborted ritual had disturbed the beast. The priest would have only a limited span of time to make amends for his error. He drew a deep breath of the temple air and released a sigh, indistinguishable from the polluted atmosphere into which it was expelled.

written while listening to:  Duet for Theremin and Lap Steel - 'Oumuamua, disc 1 (Stickfigure Records, stick077cd, 2021, United States, cdx2, discogs.com)