Lance Calabrese

Deaf and Blind

	Must learn lip reading    mute the television    (should do that anyway)    watch those heads bob open/closed without their smiles dimming scrutinizing the news of words    only    turn away when cutting in on provincial fires and from now on just the old songs    (to discover what notes have been lost).
	
	Have turned from faces never eyes met    must return. Then gaze. Now concentrate. Follow the curve from cheek to lips    the curves of cheek and lips    the unseen curve of a tongue withholding nuance and meaning through timbre    cadence volume    (never acquired certain tones perhaps)    note teeth.    (A man told me well-kept teeth and nails were a sign of class. He habituated    some province where anyone may identify class at a glance. The quiver of veins in his neck could have been read like runes if looked on without telescopic distancing.) Anthropology should be a requirement.

	I must begin now    old dogs have poor sight but fine ears and I might find the keystone in voices and miens so long dismissed perking up when Master returns or shakes his keys to go for a ride when all those years I’d simply wanted the house to myself. (Distanced or distancing. Push hard and you fall back on

	the old songs.) Lost. (How much must be lost before you raise your hand stop or help?) I do not recognize meaning. Too long I’ve ignored the movement of mouths vibrations created by their movement    the import of waves issued    the concussion of air between us became a communiquéé of currents I couldn’t understand.

	High tones and low removed from context    what does the blaze imply? The fire between requires air and I’ve preferred a vacuum   aren’t you lonely? No (merely disengaged).

	(He stood close    started to tell his story    lips flapping unintelligibly because I refused to learn the intricacies of conversation    the muscular expression    of cheek and tongue    of safety.)

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Lance Calabrese lives in San Diego.