Dzekashu MacViban
THE DAY MUSIC DIED
(For Michael Jackson)
Festooned Neverland
Once sought, found – what was never to land!
Needless
To say that the kiss of falsehood
Can’t touch you here.
All is at antipodes now.
Instead of soaring in completeness
Listen to a lone voice proclaim
The death of Auto tune…
They were all there— the
Gold and story diggers—
Those who broke you,
Conspiracy theorists too.
The day that music died
Was the day you took it along—
But did it die?
Dzekashu MacViban
GENESIS
ΙΙ
They hang above my head— voices from the past—
Like the silvery fog
Ringing in and out, running through my head
But do they all belong to the past?
No, not all. Shadowy scenes swing
From end to end, crying to be heard;
Dissimilar images
Of places and people—
Some forgotten, others suppressed.