This poem is taken from PN Review 233, Volume 43 Number 3, January - February 2017.
Four Muses & other poems
Four Muses
What to say to my muse the power plant
who makes auras for the city’s night hours
with a sputter of wattage and volts?
What to say to my muse the steelworks,
who sends hot blasts down the standpipe
for fig trees to thrive in?
What to say of the pigments
rolled out in testing chambers
by my latest muse the chemical plant?
What to say when the power plant
hums and clicks and shines
like a fairylit woodwind instrument?
What to say when the belting out
of playground pieces gives way
to the making of girders for steelworks?
...
What to say to my muse the power plant
who makes auras for the city’s night hours
with a sputter of wattage and volts?
What to say to my muse the steelworks,
who sends hot blasts down the standpipe
for fig trees to thrive in?
What to say of the pigments
rolled out in testing chambers
by my latest muse the chemical plant?
What to say when the power plant
hums and clicks and shines
like a fairylit woodwind instrument?
What to say when the belting out
of playground pieces gives way
to the making of girders for steelworks?
...
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