Another fouffy poem because I forgot

The Music Rooms

The Lustrous Emotions The Emotion of Luxury

The Luxury of the silence of emotion
lyricism 5/4 4/4 3/2 7/8 damn,
did I will
This fetal beat fragment recalled
Deep in a dream.
another ABpositive blood dream
That starts out like a silent horror movie.
So the afternoon
lies on lies and I hear the guests arriving so I can continue?

Get out or maybe I should

He is of Lustrous Emotions
an O negative to my AB pallor
Almost campy vampiric the night
He inked my body, then
I thought
This is all the same to him
With his body Some neural charge or a radiation afterburn
Architect = Sonic

Keeping them out
Passing a bottle of
‘52 Chateau Margaux back and forth in bed laughing until we were drunk.
Construct of a dirge or maybe the

madrigal of our torsos the valor of our space and time
descending or lurching ostinato
when I left him in
bed with a pointed toe spooling the silk or to return outside my glamour

We get up to have tea.
an overture incessant, a disbelieved fanfare,
a bare-knuckle string battle

He's lit a cigarette without even noticing
the decrescendo in phantom blue for goodnight, sweet shadows
Dance in the smoke

He made the rooms absurdly big for us, there is a
Metallic sound to any whisper
He placed a Louis XIV blood-velvet divan
A dead god lurks under glass

In the gallery, sacred instruments from Nepal
the only other object in the room
is my Steinway
he will look in on me from his distant gallery after the hours and he is naked up there dreaming bringing in a lyre
with his hair lacquered
the
Discord of his strum
our final silence
I heard him once Then forever

He builds and I compose.

For John Way

The Music Rooms is based on portraits of John’s lovers he painted in his NY loft in the 50s.