LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE (PLAYED BY BILL EVANS, 1962; UPLOADED TO YOUTUBE)
00:00: the silence late at night between raindrops, or when a man made of pencils tells you your mother has died. six minutes & twenty-eight seconds of it, recorded 58 years ago. chair perched against glass. a red arrow beneath inching to the right.
00:52: warm hands. head low to the keys.
2:00: the meat that holds my person, falling from bone. in the center, a photo of the pianist. hair slicked to the side, deep part.
2:36: amaranth. or what is avoided when we tell someone we “love” them.
3:06: a stick, breaking mid-sentence.
3:07:
3:45: the last time you saw her. plastic spoon, unable to find the mouth. brown-orange slurry.
4:14: cough. car starting on a cold morning.
5:30: each note pointing to the silence silence silence it fills. the pianist has the aspect of an accountant in prayer, or one giving surrender to a powder spooned to the vein.
5:54: the vitals. 8,107,719 visitors since Feb 3, 2011. some leave comments; some a location, with tiny emoji flag. the Philippines. Argentina. South Korea. Germany. Japan. Denmark. anywhere the vibration. wood against hammer, hammer against string.
6:28: cat’s paw. the silence of the music filling the room: a flower that has dispatched its scent. Hyunsoo writes in the comments: “I wish someone to come here to think of me. “
i listen every night. phone flat in my palm.
William Lessard’s work has appeared in American Poetry Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Fence, and the Southwest Review. His chapbook, instrument for distributed empathy monetization, was published by KERNPUNKT Press. He is Poetry and Hybrids editor at Heavy Feather Review. Read more of his work at: www.williamlessardwrites.net.