Monday, June 22, 2015

Kygo



(for Andreas Gripp)


Ask a Cornelius a Ruth, say, if sea breezes forbid a god,
                                                                              or not
   to dance or be still!

The song, remixed often, is ancient and can enlarge on
                                                                             the heart
  (listen!)  Every delectable

lip, eye, of even the gangster can perfume to the heavens
                                                                             with it
  A saint named the Cat

or Felicissimus can't have been a more delightful tribute
                                                                             to sound,
  or pockmarked virgin of snow

(whom I can't help feeling or enlarging on when I hear Kygo),
  arms outstretched, near blind

or the catfish down in the deep end that sleep with martyrs
  Deserts won't be still either
 

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