The Ghent Review Volume1, Number 1, summer 2016 | Page 60

His questions unanswered but they will be answered according to the new
tempo. Music, yes, that’s the key – though into what door lock will I insert
it? A question for myself, not for him nor some other to give the unsung
answer to. Irrefutable as these stones or shells to the ear and their
undertones like a wash of waves out of ancient chronicles.
-Tell me, would you…
I would and have and I will – and will again. Time will see to that. A dandy if
ever there was one. Cane and hat, the perfect attire of a mannerism that has
Parisian precedence. But I’ll go. There and anywhere else where I can follow
the soul’s undertones into the startling for I would be startling.
-Tell me..
Yes and yes. I have and I will: did so once and will do so again for the
thousand time like a loom-weaver with ply and cross-ply but there will be no
undoing so as to start again.
Where is he now and where are those others and what does it matter my
would-be brethren?
Answer and answer according to your whims or ride whatever animal as
befits your moods and ways.
Tell him that. Tell him his liberty is his own and can never be mine but tell
him to remember and treasure the spoken and unsaid between us.
I stride out of history into history: dull day to the bright incarnation of
sunlight
Hey sailors, be about your tasks that shame the landsman into action!
Nets I have and will. Overtone and undertone. Sing me a shanty or a lullaby.
Will I sing?
I am singing.
Abandoned hulk of a boat that could be symbol of…but away with symbols!
I’ll have the day itself and nothing to replace it.