This poem was published in
Issue 1
September 2002
'Life without music would be a mistake'
F. Neitzche
This is all I remember;
there were mistakes and tunnels
and some moments in-between
where rhythm was just a distant arc of gravity
After low-hushed cantillations of rain
the sun would suddenly flare up
yet I would hear nothing
but silence on low-volume
I don't know if the light was military
or just a space that love couldn't occupy
I thought the Spanish castanets were meant to signify
the old boy cries of 'Wolf'
This is all I remember
though no doubt there were other nights
and other faces I avoided
as if they were agitated or dog-boned
Backspacing, I think the darkness
was something to be learned, like archery
or loss. And I was the hypotenuse
staring at absence, right-angled
like an argument stitched to the womb.