February 12th: Woke up early and messaged Alex/watched Chuck Palahniuk interviews. Spent a good portion of the day communicating with Micah. Later in the evening, Gabe and I get Olive Garden. When we return, we’re set to watch t.v. together, but I remember I have a poem to complete and need to answer groupchat. I tell him he has to wait. Started 9:08pm. Finished 10:42pm. (Based on Joseph Christian Leyendecker’s painting ’The Violinist and His Assistant’).
Moonlight on 7th
Who could imagine a tree
singing of heaven
in an uprooted forest
or the Actaeon of ambition
daring to quench his thirst
with a sonata
that waltzes on glass?
Here
stir the sonnets of broken bars
and the metronomed soles
downing the beats
they call
ichor.
Tossing peanuts into caps,
a sleight of hand,
sprouts diamonds from the waterlogged wells
and in a misguided hope, spares a penny for good luck.
In a city that’s forgotten its core,
what’s to make of the hollow,
in which the hair of Pegasus still sounds?
Grazing the grounds,
the stag strings his bow with a quivering arrow.
His marrow?
The moonlight.
-Amy Struthers