It is a grand assembly
of
quavers and semiquavers,
a
convocation
of
quarter and half notes,
a
diminished seventh,
a
major fifth
propelled
and prolific
from
black prison bars,
the
almighty staff,
into
the air harmonic
by
whispering woodwinds,
sensual
strings,
audacious
brass,
pounding
tympany,
strangers
in a cotillion,
unlike
dancing
with
unlike
until
they are married,
swirling
from altar
to
reception hall
to
consummation bed,
movements
made
by
key signatures,
sharp
and minor,
into
everyday life
tuned
to vibrations
dancing
counterpoint
up
and down the spine.
~William Hammett
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