Hey Bleaders
Collaboration continues. Picture and 6 Stanzas.
In other news, Cry if you want to, Hecht said to herself, who wouldn't listen, and maybe you.
Love,
Jennifer

Rapture
The two-tone girl, mouth wide open, head-back,
squinting blind at the rock-stars on the stage. Screaming.
Louder than the music; so loud out here
that in her head it must have been astounding.
Above her, on the stage, the musicians keep playing.
They sway their elegant teen-aged hips to music even they
can only feel. Outside, geese fly overhead, honking.
Dogs listen with their bodies and then bark.
Wings bat at the ancient night air so that it rushes,
like love out of breath, beneath the flock.
A man says listen and stretches his neck to do it.
A woman says Iisten and covers her eyes with her hands.
photo © Reuben Radding
poem by Jennifer Michael Hecht
from The Next Ancient World (Tupelo, 2001); first published in Poetry (2000).
http://amzn.com/0971031002
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