the strings

he mentioned going to a Bruckner concert.
beautiful feelings: his words reminding me that
tomorrow (today) I would hear Brahm’s 3rd piano trio
impetuous and self-absorbed I wanted to tell him how it
feels in the first movement but when my mouth opened only
tepid and confused words dripped out and it seemed wrong to be
discussing where the concert was going to be “holywell music room?”
(which was not the correct answer) so that I fell short — silenced
by the stupid impotence of words; made helpless, looking at
this face that had been doused in symphonies yesterday
having formed impressions of the composing latvian
(austrian? hungarian?) whose mind was strung
by his dog: life sounds which words remain
impotent to reign. the vocabulary of
preference and love rarely
help us.