This poem is taken from PN Review 212, Volume 39 Number 6, July - August 2013.
Poems from Nuncle Music
♦♦
Wind-up people, we are all wound up,
they wind me up, I wind you up.
This is the sharps and flats purge,
now I take it instructions will be given.
As instructed I restructure myself,
I confess to everything and more,
I confirm I conform.
My conformity is contempt.
Listen, I whip myself up in mad
whipping-top white-note noise
- wound-up, whipping, whipped...
and the whipped-up whisperers,
they cross the street,
they cross toward me,
they cross to the other side.
Listen: wound up, whipped up, wiped out,
wiped up, washed out, washed up
...
Wind-up people, we are all wound up,
they wind me up, I wind you up.
This is the sharps and flats purge,
now I take it instructions will be given.
As instructed I restructure myself,
I confess to everything and more,
I confirm I conform.
My conformity is contempt.
Listen, I whip myself up in mad
whipping-top white-note noise
- wound-up, whipping, whipped...
and the whipped-up whisperers,
they cross the street,
they cross toward me,
they cross to the other side.
Listen: wound up, whipped up, wiped out,
wiped up, washed out, washed up
...
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