FALL/ WINTER 2008



Peter H Sears

WHEN I LISTEN IN MY CAR TO MOZART’S
“DON GIOVANNI”

I usually cry at the same two places:
“Batti, batti, O bel Masetto”
and when they repeat “Andiamo, bella campagna”

or something like that.
I know “andiamo” means “let’s go.”
Which is O.K. if that’s all you mean,
but “andiamo,” that’s saying “let’s go” with panache,
and who can’t use a little panache?

I like singing lightly too
because then what I’m hearing
feels like me singing,
as if all I need to do is to sing lightly into the music
and the music becomes mine.

If I cry outright, I can’t hear the music,
but if I sob, which is softer, I can
-- I just can’t sing.

I conduct too sometimes.
I steer with my left hand and conduct with my right.
I’m careful about passing cars.
I don’t want people seeing me to think I’m, you know, off.


Peter Sears’ poems have appeared in Field, The Atlantic, Rolling Stone, Saturday Review, Mother Jones, the New York Times, Antioch Review and Orion, among other places. He grew up in Suffolk County LI and lives in Corvallis Oregon.

 


 

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