Like mountains – on this brow
Laurels of praise.
‘I can’t sing!’
– ‘You will!’ – ‘Sound
(Put me on a diet
of flour!)
Like milk –
Is gone from my breast.
Empty. Dry.
In full-blown spring?
I feel like a twig.’
– ‘That’s an old song!
Drop it, don’t blabber!’
‘From now on I’d better –
Pound gravel!’
– ‘All the more reason to sing!’
‘Am I a bullfinch,
To sing
Day in and day out?’
– ‘Even if you can’t,
My bird, sing!
Out of spite!’
‘What if I can’t
put two lines together?’
-‘When could – anyone?!’ –
‘It’s torture!’ – ‘Bear it!’
‘A mown meadow –
My throat!’ ‘Then wheeze:
That’s a sound, too!’
‘It’s lions’ business
Not women’s.’ – ‘Children’s:
Though disembowelled –
Orpheus still sang!’
‘So, even in the grave?’
– ‘Under a headstone, too.’
‘I can’t sing!’
– ‘Sing about that!
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