The Musician Considers Modernity and He Sighs
By Kristina Marie Darling

The city has turned into a mechanical city, he observes one morning, a tiny ballerina turning inside a glistening box. Beyond the window, his wife seems adrift under the trellis's dank foliage, her steps measured with a strange precision. And even the chain on his wristwatch rattles with diminutive elegy. But when the moon rises that evening, every radio fades, and the streetcars vanish like wooden birds retreating into a great antique clock. The discotheque holds its breath in deference.  

Kristina Marie Darling is a graduate of Washington University. She is the author eight chapbooks, most recently Night Music (BlazeVox Books, 2008).

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