~ William Wordsworth
sometimes our eyes are made loud
by harmony's insistence that the handel
shed the joy-- making us observe notes
like dust bunnies dancing,
under a magnifying glass
sometimes our eyes soften
under the quiet hum of neon
when the music is turned off
we notice the harmony- healing the riffs:
chords still resounding, sarabande'
with a trained ear, listening can bring us
to the softest weeping, restoring our solar
plexuses, engaged in sanctus espiritus-- propelling
conductor to loosen his grip upon the baton-- as we are seen
moving on a diagonal: glissade, ensemble'
Kate Lamberg
7/9/12

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