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.

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