Friday 7 November 2008

music

the piano distorts
at best: vapid cliche.
a dried-up stream

but this week: tell-tale pains:
green shoots emerge;

are these just weeds?

sing psalms yes
sing
but horns, trumpets, timbrels?

your silent music sang;

my contrived mechanics drown you out
banging away, how can I hear?

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