nocturne for a calliope
by mark hartenbach
i hum a mazurka by scriabin
suppose it could qualify as biding my time
rub ashes into my forehead
of course it would depend
on the swing of popular belief
hear carnival music blowing
in from the east
try to decipher how long
it will take to satisfy my curiosity
smell cotton candy & horse shit
have no infallible means to measure my needs
taste a stranger on my lips
invent a story to go along with it
try to outline those wild years
want to make retribution
for these small reminders
that occasionally torch my flesh
i’m crowded into a corner
i recognize many of the beautiful faces
but there is no mercy in their eyes
it’s gotten eerily silent
i’ve lost my place
start at the beginning
i’m grateful no one is listening
Mark’s dissonance has a subtext of retrospective on music
from the Russian teacher of Pasternak, Scriabin and on his
search for romanticism, beauty and a religious perspective
of mercy which only a few aesthetes hear.