Two Hear Cicadas
BEEF: We are here between trees,
with the tempo of a rosary being strung
in a queue of escalating beads—
BEEF: It's not quite the count in
the countinghouse of my chest
but the heart does make an awful attempt
BEEF: a tee and a circle wherever it may
be there was music coming on
BEEF: which though machinery-like
moves not in cogs, and never
springs, but waves through
BEEF: like wired applause for antic backstage
buds on the pre-comeuppance buzz; but it
fades
BEEF: but only after the chorus has pulsed
BEEF: it drops off with sudden decision, like fountain
water gone dross
BEEF: or it reaches the furthest point
the branch turns from us, and is for some arc
fully quiet...
BEEF: until the roulette snaps its jaw and the choir's
circuit opens to one
BEEF: like a pigeon unhinged, its wings in sudden
white-rumped ascent
BEEF: unopposed by iridescence
BEEF: unopposed by iridescence
Copyright Credit: Farnoosh Fathi, "Two Hear Cicadas" from Great Guns. Copyright © 2013 by Farnoosh Fathi. Reprinted by permission of Canarium Books.
Source: Great Guns (Canarium Books, 2013)