Other Keys

remarkably it must be the same Richard Stoltzman still tripping up and down his clarinet's remarkable range my static destroys it forced into other room one tiny fly too annoying bumblebees thick in the raspberries I reach among them pick ripe no sting this time early morning they're just getting started was I here did I do anything seized by vagueness comfortable sensations familiar wardrobe dusting recycling all that phoning other keys absent loves