St. Matthew’s Passion in full-out all-red.
The soprano startles me,
something terrifying in German,
which (German) I don’t understand,
and cop car bigger than an elephant
pulls up front,
radio silence to sneak
on me but lights
in big street disco,
“You can’t do that boy!
No Bach at work.
Come with me.”
I loosen my tie
to get some air.
American Culture, Day Job, Depression, Isolation, Johann Sebastian Bach, Music, Poems, Poetry, Seeking God, St Matthew Passion
This entry was posted on October 24, 2011, 9:48 pm and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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stillfugue
#1 by scribbla on October 25, 2011 - 1:07 am
Lol. Or not, actually.
#2 by Carl on October 27, 2011 - 10:57 pm
LOL works for a short bit!
#3 by Evelyn on October 26, 2011 - 8:17 pm
this is fucking great.
#4 by Carl on October 27, 2011 - 11:01 pm
Oh, you are beyond kind!