across the yard: la ignota - elliott carter lyrics
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the soprano’s bosom breathes the joy of god
brunnhilde who could not rule her voice for god –
her stately yellow ivory window frames
haven’t seen paint or putty these twenty years;
gr-ss, dead since kennedy, chokes the window box
she has to sing to keep her curtains flying;
one is pink dust flipped back to scarlet lining
the other besmirched gauze; and behind them
a blown electric heater, her footlocker with munich
stickers stood upright for a music stand
her doorbell is dead. no one has to hire her
she flings her high aria to the trash like roses….
when i was lost and green, i would have given
the janitor three months’ rent for this address
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