The Narrator Listens to Cello Sonata No.2 in F Major, Op.99
Helen walked in. I was doing my neck-stand.
I was practicing stillness. I was pointing pointing my toes.
I was working my arches.
The blood was rushing toward my head. The arches of my feet were triumphs.
I was listening to Brahms.
I always listen to Brahms
when I am doing my headstand. His pacing gives me a place to focus.
I cannot focus with silence.
I scissored my legs. My perfect scissor legs
so perfect for organ
music. So perfect for pumping organs.
So much I might have been. So
I listen to cello sonatas. It seemed, in slow motion,
Helen stood above peering. Helen stood confident with legs perfect
and sharp as scissors. She readied herself to sheer my past.
She helped me find a vein. Straight,
No Chaser glory. Brahms is preparation.
Monk is execution.