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#136 [The, hands, on, the, piano, are, armless.]

The, hands, on, the, piano, are, armless.
No, one, is, at, the, piano.
The, hands, begin, and, end, there.
There, no-one’s, hands, are, there:
Crystal, and, clear, upon, the, keys.
Playing, what, they, play.
Playing, what, they, are.
Playing, the, sound, of, Identity.
Yet, how, absurd, how, absurd, how, absurd!
This poem appeared in The Anchored Angel: The Writings of José García Villa by José García Villa, published by Kaya Press, 1999.

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