Lovely chromatic Mozart, talk to me
in your language of intimate, arithmetical
progression. Perform with this performer.
Hold that diminished seventh's cutting edge
close against the dominant until it
skylarks away from the tonic's expectant
cages to a charmed high of almost
imperceptible rallentando, only to
circle back lightly into the right key.

Why does what is known of happiness,
like sadness, find insignia in harmony?
Your genes were a template of musical
grammar from the hour of your birth.
You must have translated straight from
sensation into sound, ignoring the tongue's
barbed wire at disputed borders. How young
...