Image by Emmanuel Bour
At the sound of the first trumpet...
You're a clay trumpet in the shape of a man.
I watch your lips with subtitles on.
Is it just me or are you out of hand; a viral meme?
You don't space your words,
I miss the last third of every sentence.
You're like the conch shell
Triton would blow in the golden bunker
on the bottom of the weaselly sea.
In fact your lips are mute. I know; I know.
Your conical headdress forms the lower part
of the twisted trumpet mouthpiece.
The note pitches are controlled
by the player's lips for ceremonial use,
which may have imitated bird calls,
without captions, unforeseen.
Agnes Marton is a Hungarian-born poet, writer, librettist, Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts (UK) and Reviews Editor at The Ofi Press. Recent publications include her collection Captain Fly's Bucket List and four chapbooks with Moria Books (USA). She has won the National Poetry Day Competition in the UK.