FLY AND CRICKET
Its ear attunes homage to those wings
that would entice a consort’s tailored song.
Where carapace affects a telephone
it listens beyond longing’s least unease
to hear inside a trigger-scale of notes
like a rapper’s staccato hail of words—
the key that calls the quiet gamut out
writhing, to burrow in the singer’s gut.
Down there what governs and endures is this:
a screeching in the music of the spheres
where one of all that symphony will feed
on living meat until the husk exhumes.
So out pulses shroud-faced Eurydice
with Orpheus’s body for its womb.
