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The Tapping of Brass
(1996)

The tapping of brass, the tapping of brass
The unforgetfulness of my sorrow, my love.

The wind sings me now, the wind comes
To pluck at the ropes of my core
And pull out smoothly the strings of my eyes.

Until the desire of the clanking against the insides of my ribs,
Like the gurgling of hungry infant birds to be let free,
Builds infinitely with sound like ladder rungs to the heavens.

The tapping of brass, a Bedouin woman,
Alone in the vast desert within my breast
Clad in black, clangs her brass belongings and sings
To wake any human from beneath the sands.

Whisper tapping faint bones
From behind distant clouds
Awoken by pity to answer her
Fainter than remembrance of a spring without song, last war.

The tapping within me
The wind through my eyes
The toppling of my bones like a rock pile that laughs
I am the last of this suicidal race,
Finally atop these dunes, with my open hands.

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