Author Archives: emily montgomery

Apologies for the poor quality. I’d blame Youtube, but it’s probably me.

Out of heals dug firmly in

a groan explodes

Reverberating off bass strings

Ricocheting around the house

Annoying the mother

Exasperating the father

again and again

Dad try hard

gives best advice

girl rolls eyes and slumps harder

Metronome tocks

incessant in the room

Beating out the faults

And to teach a better way

Mozart and Chopin

made gifts

Grace notes, runs

and Twinkle, Twinkle

She has arrived

to show her stuff

Amidst the one one five five

of odes

to better and greater ones

swelling with juvenile intensity

and students caching yawns

and teacher

raining hellfire on group class grades

bound for recycling

The memory

in which she trusts

while sweating

perfectly good fingering

right off the keys

goes black

preparing to demolish

whole movements

one piece at a time

Out there with the remains

of her broken chords

is the one

the teachers kill for

heard at a master class

cherry picked

to come

right after

Montgomery Assignment 2

I don’t have the wherewithal to find the hugest cat,

not the slightest, crystal clear clue!

A small, detailed, unjustified, good clue.

Like a roll of sushi,

create harmony.

One is enough.

Nevertheless, 5 is always good too…

Jon was foolish however, and did not believe me

After school, in the parking lot he met me,

where the thief was found.

“What do you mean he was found?” I giggled

louder than the shrieks of a child as he’s being tickled.

“Cats don’t like sushi!”

Old is the rocks building the stairs

climbed by the rusty men who ate birdfish on Fridays,

is the sharp shelf pushed out of the waves over waves and waves.

Long lost is the ship bringing northmen to the shore to crush.

Crush what?

Heavy is the mass over waves and waves

teetering up old stone stairs

to the hiding place,

the spacious place

prepared for them who wait,

who run to the highest to wait.

To wait for what?

The crush or glory,

not rescue.

Rescue is teetering down old stone stairs over waves and waves,

is hooked back into the whole.

The heavy mass is left sharp to the birdfish safe on Fridays,

from the rusty men who came to leave

but left in the end.

Ask for directions to the dock

Question your whereabouts and backtrack a bit

Question your decision

Look calm

Wish for Gravol but take Ibuprofen instead

Look calm

Stand alone together

Check your reason for being there with some new arrivals

Pet the dog when he jumps off the boat

Act calm

You know me,

Because I love to talk,

And think,

And tell you about it,

And rethink,

And wonder,

And pause,

And continue,

Because there’s so much happening

All the time,

And there’s never enough time,

So why stop when I…

You have to stop.

A full stop.

Don’t go on.

Please.

That’s enough.

A breath isn’t enough.

But I give plenty,

So you’re never short of those

When you’re with me,

Because I believe in breathing,

So I never stop breathing,

Well never stop anything really

When there’s more to do

There’s more to say,

And that’s what I always say

When I’m saying things,

And I’m always doing that

You know…

I know.

I know it’s nice to stop.

You should try it.

Well, I don’t know about that

Because there’s a lot going on,

And I can’t miss it

When it’s all happening,

So maybe another time

When…

Just try it.

We can try together.

Well, ok.