for John Cage

a song is a text-
ure a thrall
a swath a dress
of waves and valences
   who stand
   with yes

speech ebbs
when cochlea ring
it’s only tone we need
the static stitch
the soft interstice
warm enough
   to stand
   with yes

a bedroom community
is not a remedy
musicians find
what waits in churches
a raging populous
will not wait
   or stand
   against yes

let us lie face down
covered in white cloth
foxing the last snow
before spring
while our families sing
   do not stand
   against yes

Stand for. Stand up.