991 Readings | 3 Ratings


I entered The Lives
of the Great Composers through
unruly diagrams, the hard way
through northern forest.
I beckoned myself as bear
Get out of the paperless trees
before you're obsolete.
I read Small Is Beautiful
convinced by the quality
of vague decades, jacketed
ancestors with ancestors, drowned
and drowned in their channel
and lived. The weather
was no problem. I said Now
for my final masterpiece
and threw a spear into space.
I threw away my education
and hurried back to my wife,
pedigree unknown. Believers,
she's like the living difference
between the noise and note
of a drum, old blood pitching
in the timpani we know. 
Posted 08/16/13
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