Lucy


She loved him although he only would play Beethoven
On the tiny piano with his eyes closed to her
But open to the music
The third, fourth, and fifth movements of Beethoven’s 6th Symphony
Made her swoon, lifting her blue taffeta dress over her head
And exposing her black patent Mary Janes, so much shiner than
His stupid piano

She loved him because he played Beethoven
On a large piano on a stage in front of the whole city
The wooden confines of the symphony hall a coffin
For her desires
Now she heard the 7th Symphony in her head while she
Brushed her teeth, in her best bra and slip
Waiting for the car that would take her to sit in the very last row
And clap politely

She loved him when he stopped playing Beethoven
Finally, as she watched him set aside what was familiar
And clutch a baton
He couldn’t hear her yell from the kitchen, my love
Come, she hummed, all the best parts of her life
Were the music he made and she heard
She relented and brought him a tray, as she
Felt the floorboards pound with her steps
Bah dadah bummm