(after Carmina Burana)
Black-clothed conductor, jerking on spring coiled feet
points baton at percussionist who ignites the movement
stark expression, a blinding burst.
Bassists boom, tenors donate a meek accompaniment.
Sopranos shrill, crescendo over contralto
merge and sweep past my leaning ear to
Doppler away weakly into the black sky
stars cancelled by city strobes.
From the circle we see them all
violin quiver, the cellos purr behind,
clarinet calls to the bassoon whose
bear-like boom bears testimony
conductor undulates, pulls melodious torrent.
The notes follow, swelling and rising,
surging and falling, fading and scattering
to an audience hushed.
Enter through my shattered ear. I hear it now
tomorrow I shall mourn by Carl Orff's grave
We mourn together - I lie prostrate
without the will to lift my head.
Prayers mingle with sweat - take away this cup.
Behind my breastbone, anguish writhes
ice-cold tentacles around guts
the grip never lets.
