Thursday, October 12, 2017

A LITTLE SELF-FLAGELLATION MUSIC

Evening is falling
messy and in-
distinctly throughout

the universe
now,

and according-
ly, Enie Kleine Nachtmusik 
is playing—

tiny floating membranes
and vibrating strings, all
twinkling

imperceptibly, all
transitioning
hastily

from Allegro
to Andante—but

not me.
I refuse
to move

that way.
I am not so rude
as the instruments

which, day
to day, comprise me—

I am so patient
they call me
Doctor Adagio—

that's how slow-
and pre-
cisely

I choose
to do—
everything.

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