a symphony orchestra.
there is a thunderstorm,
they are playing a Wagner overture
and the people leave their seats under the trees
and run inside to the pavilion
the women giggling, the men pretending calm,
wet cigarettes being thrown away,
Wagner plays on, and then they are all under the
pavilion. the birds even come in from the trees
and enter the pavilion and then it is the Hungarian
Rhapsody #2 by Lizst, and it still rains, but look,
one man sits alone in the rain
listening. the audience notices him. they turn
and look. the orchestra goes about its
business. the man sits in the night in the rain,
listening. there is something wrong with him,
isn't there?
he came to hear the
music.

Spiky Lime-Lemon Pineapple Glass Brigade
You try so hard to charade & parade
Yet you're clearly a pineapple top under the sea
A Debussy bop that decided to grow into a tree
You spiral, twirl, shards stain, you spin, you sin, reach for the sky
Green yellow tangy lollipop, so sour, so jubilant, beget Lizst, you crescendo
Back to Bach you daring darling memento, towering above them ready to fall
Each piece a note, to build a piece on which we all dote, take note
And from the balcony I yote, my preconception of you though
I thought thou art, thou'st'd've stolen my carte blanche pour comprendres des arts
Listen carefully she sparkles, green yellow gradient empowers, green yellow
I'm green yellow, jealous of you, I wish my bones could play the tune of your crystal body
Even though my heart is fragile like glass, I could never reach that height
The perfect geometry, so natural, bountiful, beautiful, you harmonious **** you devil
Nothing to hide, exhibition exposé, eyes glaze your figure