Whither

Stand there, hollow a moment.

Compose yourself,  in the whirlwind.

Sharpen your flat, staccato.

Minor key of your major tune.

 

I cannot dance

to such dissonance.

I cannot sing

so confused a song.

 

Do you want me to leave the stage

trip on the footlights

fall in flames on the director

I can’t don’t and won’t hate you.

 

 

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