Watching a Musical

31 Mar

———-

Watching a Musical

 

I tried for four years

and it hasn’t become anything

but a healing for the restless

and arthritis and anxiety for me

a headache, catalepsy

fragile nerves and chamber pots

a collection of coffee spoons

in mangled hands with shaking fingers

ossein surrounded by limestone crumbling instead of bone

under the pressure of forced repentance and compunction

an apartment where a musician took his life

for money maybe or

because he couldn’t come up with another melody to run along the train

the fingers steal another face like Christmas presents

trying to crush the grain of coffee against the paper

so as to leave a mark

to mark the spot

before the operatic bow

which we’re all too accustomed to

it becomes a dulling lament for homey Ignacio Sanchez Mejias

picked off in the same hood which will raise your enemies

and resurrect them, and resurrect them, and resurrect them

like a dulcet sting

and we’re all absent, based souls swaying through the olive trees

(the love of a poet sick somewhere in a pick-pocket’s wallet)

watching someone die because there are no refunds at the ticket booth

and we all need to save your money

for the kids’ boarding school

where they’ll make the friends you’ve never wanted them to have

to pay off the heavy mortgage

for the news coming every day

an assassination or two with a brunch menu

some pussy maybe

a lady in a glass

the temple full of debt

but the church still gets a tithe

until it is nothing but glass and sand under foot

in a frame

which you’ve brought back with you from Barbados

and it is then

that the criminal stirs

with poison like a free market in his blood

and he buys a song from the street

sounds something like “Pilate’s Dream” played on a ukulele

or Occupy Wall Street as a Broadway Musical

because these notes know

that this rash will become a riot

in a silent theater with lotion by the seats

where a constant encore plays

and we’re just waiting for the curtain call

because we might finally execute someone

 ———

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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings


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