The Dilemma
If I could
curl up
between
the letters,
then no one
would know
I was there.
Perhaps
if they saw
me
at all,
they would
think I was a comma,
and pause.
If I curled into
a tight enough
ball,
they might even think
me
a period.
It would be
nice for a moment
to stop
the world.
***
Breakage
Lying in bed, thinking of music,
I climb out of myself
and poise above the steep silence,
I meditate and totter back and forth
like a bottle of steadied sound.
I want to hear music, I say,
tossing myself off this precipice
my soul quaking within its walls.
I want to hear myself break.
***
Ode to A.
Who are you calling out to
when you thrash about
and play drums as if your life
depended on it?
Surely, not me,
I'm just the singer you play for,
but we've got something in common, you and I.
We can give away our secrets
without giving it all away.
***
Angelica's song
How good and handy is verse
in opening and exorcizing my heart.
From where things can come out both screaming
and dancing,
and I can put on my angelic robe
of a page and, with my white gloves,
hand out lilies to all.