MICHAEL TILSON THOMAS, ODE TO JOY AT TANGLEWOOD, AUGUST 2022

by Phyllis Wax

 

 

 Michael Tilson Thomas 1944-2026

 

 

Aggressive glioblastoma                                       
rampant weed                                     
slashed                                                 
hacked
but no guarantees                          
 
Still, there he was
energetically coaxing the best  
from the musicians
 
luring them boldly                                    
through the gardens of music
gardens growing wild and free
 
sharing beauty                 
and terror
with the audience
 
who rose
in homage                 
at the end
stood applauding
for over six minutes
 
Unseen
in the background
that noxious weed
still crept 

 

 

Phyllis Wax writes in Milwaukee, where she observes the goings-on of the country and the world and is being cured of her delusions. She has read in coffee houses, bars, libraries and on the radio, and has participated in poet/fiber artist collaborations. Among the journals in which her work has appeared are Gyroscope Review, Writers Resist, Jerry Jazz Musician, Rise Up Review, Mobius: The Journal of Social Change, Wordpeace, The New Verse News, Naugatuck River Review, Your Daily Poem, Feral. 

HURRICANE WATCH, NEW ORLEANS

by Gail White

Mon., Aug. 30: Children watch reporters at a building collapse scene in New Orleans. Brandon Bell/Getty Images

Someday only the divers

will visit New Orleans.

The church bells will ring under water.

Kelp will encircle the rusting wrought iron

like Mardi Gras beads.

The round-eyed fish will roam free

with no one to cook them with almonds.

Drinks are not on the house now, but under the sea.

Politics cause no fights. Who wins doesn’t matter.

The artists are gone. The rich and the homeless are gone.

The old jazz musicians have shut up their instrument cases

I will be one of the few to remember the days

of white-powdered beignets and coffee at Jackson Square,

and Jackson himself on a rearing horse tipping his hat.

And the bells of St. Louis Cathedral

will ring for mass under the sea.

Gail White is a formalist poet and a contributing editor to Light. Her most recent collections are Asperity Street and Catechism. She lives in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, with her husband and cats.