Calling the Black

As the curtain falls to pool, a silent reverie falls to ground Amputated in thralls hold, the bereft wandered in Netherlands, subsisting on remembered be-fores, spotlights and sweat-ed applause ‘Break a leg’ is what they say but diminished spirits from crushing critics ever smashing to review, all hope, dashed and newspapers flutter on fences, cruel proclamations and opinions now today’s garbage, remembering ones discontent Ringing from cords while lungs grasp for air, and in the rapture of feeling is the glamour, of one string feathering to vibrate, all dimensions of time In claps of applause are leads of rapture, now connected, the universes symphony starts transmitting Black curtains in time, opened to infinity and applause reverberated, in One