April 7.

First fugue

I attached rabbit ears to a new mask
so he could better hear but Beethoven
blew in fury raft and grosse panicked
when we recorded the piece tender animals flew
from the ceiling onto our music stands hilarious
in that raw moment the church shimmered gold
held our breath as one animal did not stop
my desire template drowned out
the (actual) quartet billow sails I knelt in loam
leaned forward into the notes my knotted fingers
my Beethoven ache in the audience a woman
screamed stung by a bee on her shoulder where tulips
breathed hosannas their wolf heads dipped
and swayed in ravage faces could not hear
(warning) voices not even the rabbit
ears glue and mud and tomato vine I covered my (true)
ears onto his ears as panic bundled and roared
my (felt) hands flying against my instrument
watched the fugue climb straight up to god