Who Keeps Singing It (13th Reflection On Kabakov) Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

13th Reflection on Kabakov


the things you had learned

while whirring among the stars

as if in a landscape by Dore


Dante's Dore commit to a piece of paper

in the teeth of such a wind

you may later, said the angel


the one with furry wings

the one that held your gaze

and splintered in Cezanne


precisely the blues from the greens

it isnt sequestered really

where you live


expounding the clouds

making up small messages to send

welcoming the white winged things forlorn


into the winter corners on the canvas


let words fall like glass

on a stage of permanent stars

the mirror image reversed


so that we walk on skies

and have for a roof, the earth



the paper torn

in the teeth of such a wind

begin with small crayons...


in an abandoned field

someone has tossed golden apples almost everywhere

only I don't know who


keeps singing it, this way

so that I continue hearing

the music without the words


the petaling ones free falling

from the far balconies.


mary angela douglas 18 june 2019