To Beethoven

Beethoven, I love you. But you play your Moonlight Sonata On a bleak night and I am left- In my coffin Bones devouring Flesh- Eyes drowning in chasms Left wide open- Wearing a black dress With a white collar Sweeping dust and talking To myself All the delicate Ballerinas Of the world Softly dance with those Grotesque girls Who were told they were Too fat to perform When they were alive And the Cavaliers watch from afar- As they write poetry drained With Disdain towards The Love They never had and never lost The Emersons and the Twains Watch quietly-- The Einsteins, Newtons, and Hookes- Scribble formulas on napkins As they try to calculate The changing notes your Piano Plays--- The kings quarrel and start a war. Scared for the life I have already lost I- Clench to the hand of the Man next to me Who died of cancer because he Swore and drank too much All our thoughts collide The piano plays on Newspapers rot And it all flashes before me- The Pharaohs The Kings The Wars in the name of God The poems The symphonies Centuries filled with Nothing People People People It all flashes before me- As we die again And again The process repeats itself at least twice- Until I wake up in my bed, Shudder, Take off my earphones And stare at the Empty room around me.