Monday, November 22, 2010

St. Cecilia (patron of musicians and poets)


in death, songs are different--

like hearing them from the

beginning of a tunnel,


from the light that comes

from elsewhere.


they slant off-key, lose their

balance on the stairs, get caught

in the lacy hems of their skirts.


when teeth hit the edge of a step,

that is a song in and of itself.


steam rushes out,

turns everything

to white.


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