The life of a dying piano man told from the point of view of a, well, a piano? |
The Requiem of a Dying Piano Man: Absalom von Sorette’s Last Song I. Prelude The piano man who lived in Chesterdale once told me “Living is exceptional!” I thought he was crazy. His arthritic fingers danced Above ebony carved delicately Into keys of white and gold. Not black, he said, but gold. The piano man played blues And asked me “Isn’t living just remarkable?” I leaned on his piano and traced my name into the wood. And his fingers kept on dancing To the song he always played on Keys of white and gold. “Gymnopedie”, he said, “isn’t life incredible?” The piano man wore a beard And whispered to me “Ad astra per aspera.” He said the music took him to the stars. II. Schickshal The piano man told me one day We would go to the stars on A staff of music. Tuesday nights he took me there Riding on the tails of eighth notes. The piano man always cried When we saw Satie in the sky. III. Pluto The piano man named me Pluto. He said Pluto was the part of a person That destroyed itself to be reborn. I told him Pluto was just a planet. The piano man didn’t like parties. He hid in the corners from overdressed men Behind the great pianos and hummed songs into their frames. He said if they absorbed the music Then someday the pianos would know Great fingers too. And every Tuesday night in smoky bars he played the ebony keys On a piano so old it was a half step flat. But the piano man’s fingers were magic And from them came God and music Sent past the Heavens to Pluto. And the piano man whispered to me ‘Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.” The piano man’s words were music Written beneath the notes of Satie That only he could see, That only the piano man’s magic could play. The music echoes on Pluto, Whispering words that turn into dancing music. IV. Tu fui, ego eris The piano man died in an oak tree On Tuesday night. His body swung with a rising star to Satie’s Gympnopedie. The piano man whispered to me "Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!" Pluto is a fading light amongst dying stars Where I visit only in my dreams. And the piano man’s last song Is fading away in my memories, Seeping through the cracks of my reminiscences And existing only on Pluto As the piano man’s voice whispers in my ear “Living is exceptional.” |