How does one survive without B flat?
Day-to-day hustling and bustling
With no whistle in the work
No hum in the humdrum

You used to quarter your life
Placing beats of silence
Where you needed your rest
Placing dots where you deemed it
Necessary to
Hold your beat

There are no trills to trip you
There are no runs during dawn’s run
What once was music
Is now noise
No boom in the bass
No flute in the soprano

Guitar, Guitar
Strumming couples’ lovemaking
Plucking guitar rain
No heaven droplets on your face
No prisms crashing on concrete
No smell of new day
The sensual guitar is just
Sound

And…I…weep
With timed silence
For the way you hear me now
The way
You
Don’t listen

How beautiful to thee can the music be
Whose ears are deaf and
soul is stone to me?