Ayre (himself remaining anonymous)

 

Child, my world-scape sways.
My final bedtime. My attendant
music. So short, what you take.

 

Will you leave when I’m done
leaving? Or soonest mended,
yourself go early? 10 o’clock,

 

I am dying. 10 o’clock who is
leaving. Whose planet spins.
Whose organ bedside, sings?

 

Pinned: whose constellation rot.
Whose starlight wrought. Child,
whose eternal ping this blackening

 

mine will mind? Nevermind
my throat its miscarriage, trot.
Nowhere my sirens internal

 

syrinx. Stop. Pegasus. Corvus.
Sphinx. Delphic mouthpiece,
shrink. 10 o’clock, 10 o’clock.

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