Part II of stealing sense from Ledo Ivo, but this time I also have used some phrases from The Realisation by Yvor Winters, specifically ‘nothing is simpler’ from the first line and a variation on ‘you are old’ from the last line.
No longer possible, admitting that we sung
Solely to hear our own playing, what an unmasked
Privilege, a miasma, nothing is simpler
Nor more lost, vanishing, you
than the smell of your hair
From your hot scalp. Ventriloquist I throw my throat
Into your hands, pull the strings and ask
For a song, an epiphany, in pieces or a
Whole made of mortar and mortal a capella, you sprawl
Did you not know we are old?