KM4
2 The Concert
Lake waterÂ
in smooth still sun moves in
and out of synch
with the violin
playing at the villa—
the bow attacking the strings looks like a hand
making some frantic motion to come closer, go away—
it’s hard to say what’s being said,
who’s being summoned from the dead,
from red sand drifting
across the sheen of the shining floor.
The pianist’s hands taking wing to hover above a chord
become the flight path
of a marabou stork crashing down
on carrion, the piano levitating up and up
above red sand that it starts to float across
the way a camel’s humps
far off in the mirage rise and fall fall and rise
until mirage overbrims itself
and everything into its shimmering disappears.
And the ones who died the day before,
blown up at the crossroads at KM4,
scanning the notice board for scholarship results,
put their fingers to their names as the onlookers applaud.
Contributor’s notes: Tom Sleigh
Contributor’s notes: Michael Hafftka
KM4 Introduction: Poem & Paintings
Artist’s Statement: Michael Hafftka
KM4