A Menagerie of Craft


Inspired by Marie Ponsot’s poem “What Speaks Out.”

The best ones require more than quick study.

You must dissect them 

Separate the wheat from the chaff. 

They demand you step inside their rooms. 

Linger with your glass of sentiment.

Right after you find the right 

Magnification from the porcelain bowl of readers

On the bottom shelf of the cabinet, 

beneath the reclining Italian bottle of red.  

Until it makes you sob alone in your bed.

Because what speaks out does not shout or flail its massive tangle of strings.

Instead, it lulls you into abstinence with a Mesopotamian instrument

Four thousand years old. Making you wonder if the boar was, in fact, a bull?  Or if the era when music began, ended

 much too swiftly for that tall trio of females, 

Two singers and one lutist, crushed by the algorithm of the prevailing dead royal.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.