From the Devil's Trill Sonata

David Shapiro

DAVID SHAPIRO

       From THE DEVIL'S TRILL SONATA

You clamp the rifle and release the bullet
And you know that it will always reach the target
And the ferryboat sails straight across the river:
It feels normal in the still air.

What course must the aviator set
On a level road when the day is wet?
The tracks of the raindrops on the window
Are dropped from the bridge by a boy.

You place a smooth box down like a stone
And you rest on your own inclined plane.
A stone is seen to pass through the window
But now the stone is snow.

We have so few red flowers
The stem hangs over the edge of the table
The flower leaves the stem like an aviator
Or like the man in the elevator.

The milkweed fills the sky
Which is small, pale blue, and almost white
Like the game lit up at night.
"We have reached the bottom, you and I."

Half-divine, half-raw, half-German, half-Greek
Time now for an excursus to the centre of all this muddy
  junk |

I gaze into the hilarious sky where flowers gather
  unknowingly
The last row in a theatre of stars.

Dear cloud, free from moral guilt,
I see you dragged like a heap of small sacrificial cakes or
  swerve
Streets tarry in one place, and satirical teeth bite and
  corrode
Stinging clouds are worse

Oh clouds I fall fighting against the whole Persian army
A pond's another place where streetlights delight to roll
  in gewgaws and larvae
Andromeda, make steady my steps
You who had but lately begun to exist, who existed
  formerly

The sun is hot and scalds the little day.
The plane sails up, stalls slightly, drops its nose in a dive
Into a barrel of dimes.
What tree always has a partner?

What flower do most people go far to avoid?
You are beginning to find a bed very boring
Yet you are not allowed to sit up more than an hour at a
  time.
Mother stands straight up at Green's Five and Ten Cent
  store.

A supply of white floating soap, and you are all ready
  to carve up
This tray holds all I need;
It's a nice clean occupation.
But I am not sure what these incalculable beasts may do.

You need a ticket of admission to my rooms.
Naomi and I make up contrite items and float them down
  the stairs.
You are lying on your back in the honeysuckles-
  choking.
My entire life was being decided by five nincompoops.


Father says, I will get you a glass of water
If you will bring me a leaf from the linden.
So you ran to the linden tree, crying Dear linden, dear
  linden,
Give me one of your leaves. ,

We must keep this heat.
That is, we let our clothes get cold instead of ourselves.
Three shirts are warmer than the whole out-of-doors
And the soft inside part of the house. Because we are half
  air ourselves.

What is the difference between a cloud and a spanked boy?
Dear Sky, we who are about to slide (on ice) salute you.
I take my snowy map and look at one country for three
  minutes
Only a minute to go; that's not asking much of your
  memory.

Up goes the curtain; Columbus discovers America.
In this story your hands play the part of empty barns.
Up goes the curtain; Cornwallis surrenders at Yorktown.
You open your hand to show the five sheep sleeping
  safely under the tree, which ladies wear around their
  necks,