we were there at the opening

Minnesota Symphony (head in the dear lights)

                                                  if a Greek could see our games...

Stravinsky, Sacre du Printemps.
We were there at the opening,
brimming Finn conducting
momentum – thunderclaps & stomps

revive   tired 20th century
Apollinaire   in wings
puffing peace pipe rings
heart-knots   knock-knock (really

Thunderburnt acceleration).
Sacajawea, limping
the cornfield, keening
high lonesome   milky halcyon

mother-of-pearl   a sacrifice
of Mendelssohn   &
pirouettes   rose islands of
melodious romance   (deep ice

instead).  The violence inbred
in Gothic bones   Poe’s
charnel House of Horrors
under clerestory lines   All dead,

alas   Jessie   Ophelia
sweet dark-eyed river-
daughter   (Prospero,
Moses)   a scent   selah

shelled corn   shellacked
by hangrin’ guilty guile
in lime   hid   laid   Ile
fit you   Why?   Hack’d


be the hackers   ice cracking
at the end   some munster
python swallowing your
Sonny Man (ut one thug lacking)...

Little mote, little penny, tiny
splinter in your eye
Ford Theatre   The King
Must Die   in Memphis   on a balcony

lowly motel   or mangy inn
It had to be done, someone
must’ve said   musty felon
or gypsy   jew-boy   coon

& we all in on it   even FBI
even Adlai Stevenson
some historical person
Hubert Humphrey (or I’ll be J)

– the pressure-cooker of The War
to End All   Wilson   Geraldine
Fitzgerald   Cymbeline
or Everybud   the boar-hound or

the bore   deflect the arrows of
your .44 (or .45)   Merved
orange Grifter   Vertigo
(the movie)   someone’s flic’v love

home run   9th inning   must be
some kinda way outa here
I don’t want to be the deer
in the headlights, Maggie   help me


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