Even Underwater We Hear The Sax Man Playing

by Philip Vassallo

Just the sound of water passing
through a downward tunnel. Then the heart stops
with the breathing but the blood still moves,
makes noises of its own until it clots the vessels
and pastes them on membrane walls, rupturing
as muscles tense before they spasm,

but more than the sound of running water
passing downward, bloodless water,
the way we cry when opening one door after another
each one leading to smaller chamber
and another and another and another
and an echo, and the sound of water
just the sound of water
and a whisper
and a sound could speak
to more than themselves

as if it were true, this thinking
that their words make music
only they can play,
that their words make music
only they can play.

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