Share this

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Dancing the Demons Out

La Guitare

I am the head held high, the invasion
of aspirations to become part of the world, to
catch up with its spinning; I will the mysticism
of movement, the self-love of grace, the lovesick
bliss of moons too subtle to behold; I move
not only bodies, but souls, the emotions
in them kicking and straining to the sound
of fingers sea-sawing across ore dredged
up from the earth and stretched into strings
that sing into the anti-matter of the universe and draw
out its anti. The air
holds the memory of each of our positions
for a moment before it disappears
into the warm sheath of metabolism. I am the pleasure
given unto people by the empty body
of trees sacrificed to the health of a community, the dark
cloud spreading around the head
of the player, on which we can dance
to remember the reasons we are.

No comments: