out of tune
missing keys, missing hammers
foot pedals fighting through emphysema through to the bottom
like the opening of
a hundred million Sunday papers unfolded between the time this piano
and when it became a blackeyed yardsale novelty
I kept an acknowledgement of the holy
And learned to string together a note or two
Tap out a tune like a distress signal
Communicate with the outside world
Because no one understood when I was merely exploring
the space between vibrations
honing in on new worlds
fingers bouncing like astronauts always taking that giant leap for mankind
tap at the key and here was some other dimension
waiting in insolence for the one note world to at least turn their eyes towards the narrow spectrum and consider the possibility that
© Copyright 2016 Keisha Gamman. All rights reserved.
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