There are perfect intervals
but they don’t work so well
when stacked by way of precision
(so much for perfect).
So we coerce them.
Change the temperament.
Fudge the numbers.
Now these intervals are imperfect.
And now they work alright.
Close enough for jazz,
anyway.
the sieve and the sand 
This was one of those pieces where I read the first staza and dont quite get it, so I read the second. I don’t quite get the second so I read the third and then it all comes together and all makes sense… Like the chaotic harmony of a saxophone solo. Top notch stuff.
Word.