This is how my mind works.

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Applied Flarf

Selected Writing

  This music
demonstrates what it claims:
glory shall be revealed. If art’s
  acceptable evidence,

  mustn’t what lies
behind the world be at least
as beautiful as the human voice?
  The tenors lack confidence,

  and the soloists,
half of them anyway, don’t
have the strength to found
  the mighty kingdoms

  these passages propose
—but the chorus, all together,
equals my burning clouds,
  and seems itself to burn,

  commingled powers
deeded to a larger, centering claim.
These aren’t anyone we know;
  choiring dissolves

  familiarity in an up-
pouring rush which will not
rest, will not, for a moment,
  be still.

  Aren’t we enlarged
by the scale of what we’re able
to desire? Everything,
  the choir insists,

  might flame;
inside these wrappings
burns another, brighter life,
  quickened, now,

  by song: hear how
it cascades, in overlapping,
lapidary waves of praise? Still time.
  Still time to change.

-- Mark Doty

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