Concurrency
Because I could listen to O'Keefe
speak of standing
on the edge of a knife
declaring that bleached skulls
are not about death
my hands were free
to lift up her ankles
so that her toes touched
the horns of the bull
Alignment
Because I tuned a 7-string Ibanez
Hurricane Floyd returned
on the 91st floor of the WTC
its triumphant 1999 of sturdiness
captured while
the commandingly amplified B
wound itself around the block
& emplaced us as its I
Temporal Displacement
Mireille Mathieu singing "Caruso"
song about another singer
as I entered one woman
while recalling another
not about comparison
but alloyed desire,
fantasy, insurgency
against the straight-edge of time
every kiss leading to greater access
Courante
While drinking an Argentine malbec
Bwv 1007 Cellist Maisly played
and I marveled at how
my hands were free
to run where they may
across my body or theirs,
or to reach in a backpack
for oils, ointment, batteries
cello picnic
of sadism & sedation
Judgement
while Argerich did Scarlatti
with divine precision
I drifted toward the vagueness of slumber
to judge days spent otherwise
not dueling prodigies
but the coverage of hummus on flatbread & olive oil
applied with a knife taken from between
bleached white teeth of the composer,
applied adulterously -- from both sides at once --
what I listen for
is wide, luxurious, wet
with the paste of confluence.
7 September 2011