Monday, March 16, 2015

PRELUDE TO THE AFTERNOON

Eventually—from the flutes
and the Eb 
clarinet section

warm curves of air 
gingerly inch 

their way 
all the way 

up to plump balconies—and their 
manifold rows

of cracked 
and shadowy 
masked faces 

poised—in a fashion
of such
luxurious

disinterest; whereupon 
they settle

gradually 
and 
with discretion

to the 
delicate task 

of moistening—
their nosebleeds.

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