The High Note
The fat lady, lips in shape of par excellence “O.” The viking hat makes her taller and more ominous. Faces flicker like torches in the dead of night.
operatic score
the deafening metal shriek
— pissant rodent ears
Doomed shadows quiver where the flesh will pay. The knees never knew such fright. Warmth of imperiled relief, embarrassed release.
the polished silver
patient to plunge or hashtag
— a trustworthy thrust
The blood that’s splayed — an afterthought. Its grip taut and unyielding.
cleansing of chalice
the sparkling wine in tribute
— sheathing of anger
9/19/2018
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