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.
