Will Simescu
Crenellated cloud structures,
mustard-yellow bluffs, a cypress warped
by wind and perspective.
The accordion sits by the shore.
A flock of birds ascends,
black smudges flying.
The accordion ladles water
from a wooden pail.
A man on a ladder hauls down Christ
like a bundle of bricks. His face is as pale
as accordion keys.
The accordion is as big
as an amphitheater or lagoon.
Asked by passersby for a tune,
the accordion obliges.