Journey to It

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ 

Please 

press the 

green Spot and 

slide in the CD. 

Turn up the notch, a 

drum beat, the fading in of 

winged sparrows, like footsteps tapping, floating – 

Please

listen for

the shadow that

hangs under a whirlpool

of melody; like Cassiopeia’s light,

it creeps in and tickles the holy notes above –

Please

inhale that

shadow, feel the

burnt voices swell within

your lungs; a verse defined

by garbled jams, chords, triads, Brownian noise –

Please

follow the

lines and sharp 

circling turns, the rhythm

that pulses; the chorus lifts

and flutters and lifts: bread and jam, paper and ink –

Please  leap  ^  across 

the   wooden   bridge,

but always remember

to 

lull back 

to the shadow 

that now consumes you: 

tin, metal, jarring cacophony –

Why step off the train 

track when you can sleep like 

Aurora on a bed of chrysanthemum ‘moms’?

Please

play the 

break so you can 

break away break break break from the pleases.

But 

you can’t 

stop the trail 

from inching forward on 

the track; wrestle with the shadow, 

please, close the umbrella stop, it’s rippling 

bloom. The sparrow in you bounds up^it 

wants to be, the beat, the pulsing, the blood –

Please

settle and

shove the hands

in your lap and criss cross. 

A returning: the white trail expires. 

A new staticky track hovers and launches^ –

But                   where                   is                   it?

Does    it    dangle    at    the    tip    of    a    dash?

Simon     says     —    please     keep     it     going,

but no one ever asks Simon to take off his Bauta.

No one ever asks why the shadow was ever there.