P. MICHAEL MASTROFRANCESCO

 

Voices


Chopin would tap keys, step on pedals—however hard

he wanted—to heighten and elongate pitch, sending waves

of sound and vibration through the hearing and non-hearing.


Navajo women beat time on a vertical loom, weave

Churro wool, aqua, mustard, rust-colored threads through warp loops

in figure-eight pattern, create storms, diamonds, eyedazzlers.


I want to learn instruments like these, release notes

to electrify one's soul, not draw intersecting lines,


patterns that lie dormant on a bed of whiteness.

Copyright © Michael Mastrofrancesco 2003



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