piano tuner

one late june uncle rich
found an old piano 
at an antique sale & brought
him home-- 

he had said
that he couldn't let
them throw him away--

to waste his dull ivory 
teeth & stoic shoulders--

i imagine the instrument
tipping over like
a warship-- mouth coming
undone in the innards of
the trash truck--

no, we couldn't allow that

rich sat the creature 
at the end of the driveway--

perched vulture-like &
forlorn-- 

rickety bench uneven
in the grey gravel--

rich had said that
we would find a piano tuner--

that once we got
one that the beast
would be good to come
inside-- 

there it would like grinning
& letting us walk 
on tongue & teeth--

that night i stood
from the kitchen to observe
the piano--

from my distance it
seemed to be kneeling--

tell me-- do instruments
pray for their bones
like we do?

i wanted to go out 
there & sit on
the wobbly bench--

i wouldn't play i would
just rest my fingers there
to keep the colossus warm--

his one-eyed face
blinking in moon glow 

i'd whisper:
tell me what songs 
they left in you?

did he laugh behind
the altar of that church 
on Koffee Lane?

did he wait for Christmas?

did he try to 
catch bouquets at
weddings?

did the piano believe
in love or was he so focused
on song that love
became a part of
his body?

i wonder what
it feels like to grow
out of tune--

it's a process i would think

i'm standing in my vocal teacher's
living room-- soft beige carpet--
afternoon crawling on
all fours through the window

the notes start to kneel--
crossing themselves &
martyring in the chimney--

foot pedal of my tongue--

i wanted to send the
piano tuner into
my throat & beg him 
to go through me string by string--

crouched barefoot
in the cold driveway--

oh we were so much 
alike--

him & i

i would sleep
there-- resting up against
his shrugging wooden
shoulders--

the piano waited
for the tuner to come--

on the fourth of
july after a few Guinness 
uncle rich played--

notes like dead birds
laying belly up 
beneath the evergreen tree

the next night it rained
& i wanted to bring
him inside but the water
came to fast &
his body was too heavy--

there i stood
drenched & standing in front
of the piano

i wish i would 
have made music-- 

taught him to open
his mouth & catch rain--

there we'd sleep on
each other's discordant 
tongues--

oh piano tuner
piano tuner 

are you still
on your way?