Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Sharron Hass

THE FLUTIST

I’m embarrassed to say it –
if you don’t call I’ll die.  I am
embarrassed to say what is both
true and untrue.  That which doesn’t move mountains.
I don’t move myself anywhere.  Some
fool sits down to play the flute
at the edge of the roof – I fall asleep.
You don’t call.  No one dies.  Except for
Mr. Present.

THE FLUTIST

Close

THE FLUTIST

I’m embarrassed to say it –
if you don’t call I’ll die.  I am
embarrassed to say what is both
true and untrue.  That which doesn’t move mountains.
I don’t move myself anywhere.  Some
fool sits down to play the flute
at the edge of the roof – I fall asleep.
You don’t call.  No one dies.  Except for
Mr. Present.

THE FLUTIST

I’m embarrassed to say it –
if you don’t call I’ll die.  I am
embarrassed to say what is both
true and untrue.  That which doesn’t move mountains.
I don’t move myself anywhere.  Some
fool sits down to play the flute
at the edge of the roof – I fall asleep.
You don’t call.  No one dies.  Except for
Mr. Present.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère