Friday, November 30, 2007
By Taylor Mali
A grand piano wrapped in quilted pads by movers,
tied up with canvas straps - like classical music's
birthday gift to the insane -
is gently nudged without its legs
out an eighth-floor window on 62nd street.
It dangles in April air from the neck of the movers' crane,
Chopin-shiny black lacquer squares
and dirty white crisscross patterns hanging like the second-to-last
note of a concerto played on the edge of the seat,
the edge of tears, the edge of eight stories up going over, and
I'm trying to teach math in the building across the street.
....read the rest here.
This is a new-to-me poet a teacher friend shared with me this week. Check out his webpage. If you are a teacher, are interested in urban poetry slams or live near NYC you should definitely check this dude out.
The round up today for Friday Poetry is at Two Writing Teachers.