Baffled sound distinguishes each instrument.
Oblational as bread and wine, the symphony is offered up
Daliance with obligatory matters has no place here.
Abiotic as a stone, the tone still is lively:
cabaret saxophone and trumpet indiscretion.
Ides have fallen mid-month and have suffered calculation.
Obligated to time and place are both: one to measure, one to once —
upon-a-time Rome. But there comes a time to take this concert home: to
sacrarium penates, to modern modem or cellular phone.
Bagatelle flurries left us in the first watch,
abject as the weather, we would venture out
laggardly snow snail; we trail along our paths.
Dal segno, the sound of a century repeats and we turn back.
ecosystems in place, to curbs and driveways. What were we
railing about with one another or is it still against fire.
damascene inlay (a letter comes from my friend in Syria)
awe overtakes us. It doesn’t make sense.
Sacred opposes secular in ancient song, in the
here and now. Suburbia. It doesn’t make sense.