They know
Aria is a blue word
In the singing
It may rise into red
But it returns to blue
You know
They’ve been to every performance
On earth—Chaliapin
Their favorite
The way he tore at his beard
Under that clock—
And the castrati
They remember
How, in the beginning
They sang only sacred music
Oh how they love
Beautiful torture!
Over the years
They’ve come to see
The best singers
Always have
Such tiny feet…
Planet of the Blind 