Our Music*

Making for the tears of newsreel
And the images with-
out
Tears enough
Reversed by equal hell

This piano music drifts-off
Resonant with
Our image people
Will tend to be
Two
As lovers they do not
Love the one
State strives to be

An equal hell reversed
In a reverse shot
Making for
The tears of glory
Eros
Everyone’s terrible here
All they do is
Cut our heads off

Nuns submit, children throw
Bunker stones
Striving
To love the one
An anti-love
Come to me and flee to come
Numeric bits of stones

Come to me resonant with
The broken skin
Of image blood
Come to me resonant with
Notes spent more ingloriously

*composed Spring 05