The Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra
plays Shostakovich 8. I drink the dark and crank the sound. Conductor’s brilliant, yanked from the quotidian as if his bark were battered by a storm, the ocean banked and seething, every hand on deck one mind. If only I could stay so wired in my Shakespeare rants at work, my passion blind but honed as Hamlet’s, splicing prayer and sin. I swim and breathe in essences this rare if you are here. You’re gone. I’m terrified to doubt that the sublime is everywhere, a heaven right beneath our feet, a wide and sparkling sky to guide you back, lone crow that roves, that bears a song I darkly know.
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits two literary magazines at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan. His chapbook In Stereo: Thirteen Sonnets and Some Fire Music appeared from The Camel Saloon Books on Blog in 2012. Tom’s website: http://thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com/.