Nathaniel Julien Brame
The Bees Went Hunting With Music
Part I: The Sound of a Musical Tree
risking the loss of its bone flute
in a space: an interlude
to the festival of acoustical nature.
Ten treacherous days
of non-musical sounds
were also glorious.
A dome of white flowers,
very low background noise.
The only almond-tree shivering,
they were present in prehistory.
Part II: Ways The Cave Reacted Sonically Near The Hive
The droning of adding,
a consideration of towery vault,
a snow of instruments
played the arches.
furious heart indeed
that could mask
other songing.
Part III: The Story
We studied the sound of their
copper-coloured skins
on lithophones, rocks
that have come hurrying up,
known in the caves
and in the almond-tree.
They are a significant part
of the old walls, should there
be space where these are.
Part IV: This is Creation
We discovered that velvet on the head
and La Brea also acted as lithophones.
Abdomens, and, a little later,
water falling onto these.
Liver must be red
and red-like notes;
the cave-acting delegates
dispatched by the pollen instrument.
They were blooms.
Part V: Hail to You
O my dear considering soundscape
and the opposite snows.
Others sound the first tidings
of the awakening ample,
of running water,
of that of your friends.
Let us talk of deep chasms.
Nathaniel Julien Brame is a queer poet from the Great Lakes and lately the Pacific Northwest. His work has appeared in publications such as trampset, The Pierian, ONE ART, The Shore, and Welter. Alongside poetry, his other preoccupations include cave paintings, choral music, and jumping spiders. You can find him at nathanielbramepoetry.neocities.org