it's there, i've seen it,
in the last days of january
and the first days of february,
in england:
the sunset between 4pm and 5pm
reveals the famous vanilla sky
adapted to film,
from the original spanish
open your eyes (abre los ojos).
which is why poetry needs
to become more prone to optics
than resonate in competition
with mozarts and beethovens
and orchestras,
it's but a single voice
with the whirlwinds of silence
for music... it requires a detachment
from musicology,
and enter the realm of optics,
inquiring paintings, translating
paintings into animate scenarios,
using these crude alphabetical
tools to conjure earthquakes
and tsunamis and nose diving
crows perched in mid-flight
to an abrupt microscopic honing
of that scrap of food at the end
of the tunnel.