Minnesota Symphony (head in the dear lights)
SACRE DU PRINTEMPS
if a Greek could see our games...
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
3.30.17
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