The Cento for December 7, 2021

How Odd This Parisian Corner Is: The Song of the Air Traffic Controller

I

Confidence is the storm
playing them on the frets of an invisible violin.

II

Perhaps the world will end at comic con.
You don’t have to belong.
Whatever city incarnates you, incarnates me.

III

You sing songs of sorrow and sadness.
Can you whisper an inspiring couplet to our eyes?
Can you deliver a hot meal to an unemployed sex worker?

IV

I live in the present so there are many things I don’t know.
And my hands, so torn and sore, will be hurting even more.
But I suffer with this choice I’ve made.
It’s a love triangle with no love,
this harried place of exile I call my home.

During every First Tuesdays open mic, we communally compose a cento using language taken from each open-mic reader’s offering. This cento is composed of lines from the work of: Ronit, Dan Fleshler, David Seller, Kara Pernicano, Shams Momin, Bill McGee, Norman Stock, Chris Robin, Henry Sussman