One day a telegram calls you home favorite son
presented the key to the city washed out by the sun
beside the brackish delta the key a skeleton key
the festivities a disaster of clarinets brat of tubas
the mayor your bitter old lover with cruel politics
you were children in dry grass her fingertips water
you see her across the years like across the cool dim
bus station downtown where the waiting
broken pitch forward on scarred benches.
Review by Massimo Fantuzzi
Isn’t it beautiful when you come across a piece whose only request is to be heard, touched, entrusted and followed wherever its fancy of instruments, colours, textures and taste can take you?