#406 The Rights of Man

You have the right to remain stationary & not promenade along
the promenade that runs along the edge of the sea.

You have the right to rest against the meteorite that lives there.

You have the right to allow your euphonium to catch on fire
&
you have the rights to any poems that might be found in the ashes.

You have the right to believe your euphonium could possibly
be a phoenix & thus rise up entire from the ashes.

You have the right to be embarrassed by your pattern baldness
& to carry an olive leaf to disguise it should anyone come along &

wish to talk to you.

You have the right to a cast iron street lamp provided it doesn't
have a bulb that works in it.

You have the right to a cloak to wrap around your shoulders
as protection against the storm that may be blowing in over the sea.

You have the right to a single glass of water. Sip it wisely.

You have the right to an attorney should you be arrested for loitering
with intent. If you can't afford one, one will be provided for you.

You have the right to personalize the name of that warning
by changing Miranda to Magritte.

#405 La reconnaissance infinie

He stands on a globe
of sheet music to draw
closer to those lips. The
globe plays up like a
pianola, starts tinkling

beneath his feet as they
stir it to life. The song
that emerges is repetitive—
rock my heart it goes, over
& over. Then the lips open

& invite an even closer
approach. It's a siren song;
but he recognizes that too
late as he is swallowed up
in to the dried-blood sky.