A Selection from Death of the Cabaret Hegel

    [Cloudy Bright]

You lived there for a sense of scale,
the factory gutted--just you and its square footage,
like a giant companion, more like acreage,
you said, the light rolling over the scola
cantorum you built with your carpenter's hands--
a bay view, half-loft, a half-darkened stage,
or era. The town faced a continent's western edge
that the Bill Shively Band might yammer & wail,
it seemed, and poetry happen. Malarkey, too,
those twin drunks applauding in the corner,
joined, as always, by the hip: we were all
prop wash and sputter and cool remove,
while you wore the mirrors, and stared
us down, and ranted, and climbed the walls.

        --Mark Svenvold