Postcard to Rachmaninoff
Her arpeggios are up to
the task, precocious in their
carefully weighted precision
as she segues into the
swelling ache of the largo
with it’s ambiguity of meter.
It’s dissonance panning
across her lobes like 70’s
prog rock in hi fidelity
grinning from ear to ear.
She teases the grand finale
like a well schooled vixen
who’s mastered the part.
Sunken chords bellow
under the weight of wild
digits, spewing their seed
inside her molten flesh.
©️Orion Foote, 2022
Visions of Orion Poetry 