Originally appeared in: Charles Berstein, Recalculating (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013)
277

Breathtails: a Song Cycle in 13 Breaths Written 
for Anne LeBaron

Charles Bernstein 

. . . 1 . . . 

My breath
had already settled
on the windows 
of eternity
I go on but 
only in flits 
and stops
to hear myself
unsettling  
as I
settled in
as I go on 
pressed against
the windowpane
when even
as I stop
the pane presses
against me.

. . . 2. . . 

The world passed 
or I passed it 
as I live and breathe
no one saw it
coming
no one coming saw it
as I breathed I lived
the world passes by
or I passed it by
the world I passed by
passed by me

Current Musicology, No. 95 (Spring 2013) © 2013 by the Trustees of Columbia University in the City of New York



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. . . 3 . . . 

Breath is the door 
from life to death
on the border of
hearing I hear not hearing
on the border of
death and life
hear not hearing

. . . 4 . . . 

In breathless anticipation
I catch my breath
then fall under
the spell of
respiratory arrest
trial by 
rhythmic disturbance
I lose my breath
in anticipation of
spell of
arrest, trial by
disturbance
catch my breathless
anticipation
under
arrest

. . . 5 . . . 

I am breathing in long 
(he trains himself) 
or breathing out long 
(she discerns) 
or breathing in short 
(she trains herself) 
or breathing out short 
(he discerns) 
I will breathe inconstantly 
(he demurs)
mindless of time and space
(she protests)
I will breathe in without hope
(mindlessly)
I will breathe out in despair
(mindfully)
I will breathe out in despair
(mindfully)



Charles Bernstein

279

I will breathe in without hope
(mindlessly)
mindless of time and space
(she protests)
I will breathe inconstantly 
(he demurs)
or breathing out short 
(he discerns) 
or breathing in short 
(she trains herself) 
or breathing out long 
(she discerns) 
I am breathing in long 
(he trains himself) 

. . . 6 . . . 

strident, berserk, & artless
putting aside need & care 
(with reference to the work)
artless, berserk, and strident
neither here nor there
(with reference to the work)
ardent, alert, and mindful
putting aside grief and tare
(with reference to the work)

. . . 7 . . . 

breath
settled
on 
eternity
but 
only  
stops
only 
to  
unsettling  
as 
as
in
pressed 
the 
the
when  
as 
the
the



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280

. . . 8 . . . 

eth 
ettle
on 
etern
ut 
nly  
ops
o  
tling  
as 
sss 
ess  
whe  
as 
th
th
as 
whe  
ess  
sss 
as 

. . . 9 . . . 

tling  
o  
ops
nly  
tu
etern
ut 
gnilt
ettle
eth 
hte
ettle
etern
eltte
ut 

nly
tu 
ops 
o
tling
spo



Charles Bernstein

281

. . . 10 . . . 

shivering in August
shouting at the rain
sleepy at noon
pummeled, frayed

no fences to guide me
neither to the nays
sense don’t hide me
flushed in haze

hopes at half mast
fear rumples waves 
catch a glimpse of heather
cut it out before it blows away

. . . 11 . . . 

1 is the ameliorative co-opt
2 is get even fast
3 is the liberal’s nostalgia
4 is sufficient unto the day but on sale every night 
5 or more has 20 percent service added automatically
6 is the smallest perfect number
7 is the loneliest number & cries itself to sleep each night
8 fibs even when sincerity is easier
9’s the end of the line
10’s too cool to be cool
11 runs like rivers under the night
12 is all over before it started
13 is beloved of all incongruous saints
14 is for flat tax
15 likes compote with apricots
16 is sweetly silent on 17
17 won’t say
18’s twice the sum of its digits.
19 is still too young to die
20 is Uncle Max’s favorite
21 is the smallest distance from here to there



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282

 . . .12 . . . 

shivering August
shouting frayed
fences hide 
flushed haze
hopes masked 
fear’s waves 
glimpse heather
blows away
masked fences
frayed glimpse
August hopes
hide haze
flushed fear
masked waves
heather fences
shivering fray
fear’s way
shivering rays
slows flush
low August 
asked lush

. . . 13 . . . 

Everything we are
the air, the
sky that falls
into our mouths
the passing of
day into sobs 
of  night belies 
the fact in 

the name of
substance, motion, rhythmic
erasure, as if
the food we
eat replaces the
fools we are
the air, the
everything we take
as fake, as



Charles Bernstein

283

real, gains substance 
in its absence
the air the
relocates rhythmic erasure
into mouths passing
falls, fooled as 
we are by
the care we 
are, or will 

become, in the 
name of sky 
that falls as 
if name of 
night sobs in 
its absence, the 
fool belies, or 
will become, the 
name of, sobs.