Alex Martin - Twang

3. Twang

My words,

they’d practice your heart,
pluck every string.

Then they’d wait
for the far off twang

in the dark space, upstairs—
after the keyboard’s closed,

the music put away,
stowed under the seat—

through bedroom and den,
the whole house & garden.

Not to forget…



the small klang
trembling, shut

in the quiet cabinets,
in the pegs & quills.

Whatever’s held over
will be mine, also,

my lover.