Day 23

Put your voice through a filter

So you sounded like a songbird ,

So they took your words apart 

And placed them on the scale like notes


I’m sorry I don’t practice every day

The sets of intervals the variations.

I promise you I once did have the knowledge.

Outside they autotune the blackbird

Like a reality show contestant

Set it off colatura and the cheap vibrato

God declares it pitchy 

And that good does not mean art


The wren I keep in the small place

In my chest trills his song

The wren I keep, the tune

My self is tuned to

I know by heart


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