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Nocturne 4
For Pipilotti Rist
Outside.
The people now paired off in twos no longer go.
Concrete fields, forgotten.
Down the long hallway is a single room.
It’s raining.
Every drop is shaped exactly like a tear.
They hit each tree’s leaves with a snap.
The room is empty except for a lone table.
The sound of a woman crying hides behind the rain.
Stepping forward now and then,
only to quickly run back
behind the rain.
On the table is a piece of pale parchment.
A large fish has been lain on it.
Someone, and I feel as if it’s me,
has poured black ink all over the fish.
Its gills strain, wide open.
The eyes stare,
into the past trying to imagine;
into the future,
black,
nothing.
Its mouth opens, then snaps shut.
Over and over, as if he had something to say, but can’t quite remember what.
The tail twitches.
No longer able to propel, but not wanting to quit.
With every tail twitch paint is thrown onto the parchment.
Dozens of tiny ink eyes, all searching for a way out.
Once it’s still, a woman’s hands slowly reach for the fish.
Slim wrists, elegant tapered fingers ending in ten scarlet points.
I watch as the fish is removed.
The parchment is held up.
The rain seems to grow louder, picking up speed,
until it sounds like a crowd clapping.
"Brutal beauty....."
"Brutal beauty....."
***
Bio: Wayne Wolfson is a California based author. He has recently completed his first full length CD with Boston based producer/composer Grenadier. For more information on the CD click here.
This contains more information on Wayne.
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