Sunday, May 16, 2021

Poem: Der Rosenkavalier

 

Der Rosenkavalier

 

four hours of geometric hats

wider than absurd:

clowns, dandies, maskers,

cutpurses dressed like prunes,

orbiting Alice Coote in the trouser role

while she kisses Sophie,

kisses the Marschallin,

sapphic pianissimo

cresting to arias on diva pouts.

 

the boorish Baron

galumphing after skirts,

froward madman,

cannot thwart the spell of the rose.

when it beams from tufted stars,

Sophie and Octavian blessed,

to emblazon their bosoms,

the frisson climbs in rapturous glee.

 

comical evil, orchestral sobs, 

garish menageries,

the opera reeks of farce,

and yet wilts in whirls

away from the rose.


without its effloresce, 

the plot languishes.

because of it, the audience

sighs on the way home.

 


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Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Los Angeles, 2005

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