Attila Palotai

To my first followers:
          	
          	Semblance
          	(poem; 6x11)
          	
          	dig out your cold pupils' corpse in my eyes
          	to keep up the semblance and asymmetries
          	of the rain curtain which enshrouds the organ
          	and then play a fugue on all roofs, clear the pipe
          	where the sounds and deep splits will cross each other
          	as archways on the face of this stoned apostle