Here is the concerto in D-minor.
He needs to unlock the very world.
Harmonics explode in each spin.
The sparks always find him.
Each staff is an uncovering.
Tracking first principles.
Here is the science of the notes.
The keys discover the pattern
every single time. Harpsichord,
clavichord, it makes no difference.
He is the scribe. The onlooker
with the busy fingers. A bystander.
The singing starts at night
when no one sees.
This one wants to blaze through from start to finish, yet there are rhythm busters in the form of three foot lines hitting the brakes and squelching the momentum of what should be a tetrameter flow. You’re pacing Jazz against waltz.