THE PHANTOM

a rarely heard tone you are
circular and unending
uniquely flawed and failing
a masked idol
with a singular cause
if Bach had only known or seen
would it have changed this emotional soundscape?
a gladiators lick-stick
caught jumping backwards mostly
daily
like the blind deceiving the blind
in that final tunnel of light
your bite all but gone
this dragon has no teeth
just two useless wings
and a cotton tail
performing in a haze of bluish green
we grasp for a melody
long since gone
random red Xs
replace that which we could see
once
the beginning to an obvious miscue
this phantom bites harder than you ever did
the banal 3rd movement
the fatal 5th
leading to that same black-hole
that same fire filled pit
what crown should I wear this time?
I’ve hidden that image again and again
tamed that memory over and over
again
ignoring the notes in between
or at least thinking i did... or could
images behind glass pressing
images of seduction and sleep
images of flesh and flame
and of places yet to be
we’ve led 1000 strange lives this past year
performed 1000 flawless scenes
spoken 1000 potent words
hummed 1000 perfect tunes
lived 1000 anxious lifetimes
...and counting.