Beethoven Unhappy
Posted: 16 Jun 2020, 09:32
V2:
Beethoven Unhappy
To view the trees
across from his apartment,
Uncle hired a stonemason
to knock a hole in a wall.
The landlord, enraged,
demanded Uncle move.
He couldn't satisfy critics
anymore than landlords.
"Why can’t you compose
more like Haydn--
or Mozart?"
His orchestras were unhappy,
always plotting rebellions against him
for his unplayable scores.
His neighbors
would confront him late at night,
Uncle in his underwear.
He would squint at them
like a misanthrope
confronting beggars.
His answer to their complaints?
A slammed door.
Years after his death
they still recall his music,
restless as surf
rumbling across their ceilings.
Groggy, they would bang
on the landlord's door
the next morning
with their usual complaint
about the awful
noise.
V1:
Beethoven Unhappy
To view the trees
across from his apartment,
Uncle hired a stonemason
to knock a hole in a wall.
The landlord, enraged,
demanded Uncle move.
He couldn't satisfy critics
anymore than landlords.
"Why can’t you compose
more like Haydn--
or Mozart?"
Whatever I did to please him—
obtaining lodgings,
purchasing quills,
buying supplies
was met with the same question:
"Where were you?
You are as slow as a day
of fasting."
His orchestras were unhappy,
always plotting rebellions against him
for his unplayable scores.
His neighbors
would confront him late at night,
Uncle in his underwear.
He would squint at them
like a misanthrope
confronting beggars.
His answer to their complaints?
A slammed door.
Years after his death
they still recall his music,
restless as surf rumbling
across their ceilings.
and how groggy, they would bang
on the landlord's door
the next morning
with their usual complaint
about the awful
noise.
Beethoven Unhappy
To view the trees
across from his apartment,
Uncle hired a stonemason
to knock a hole in a wall.
The landlord, enraged,
demanded Uncle move.
He couldn't satisfy critics
anymore than landlords.
"Why can’t you compose
more like Haydn--
or Mozart?"
His orchestras were unhappy,
always plotting rebellions against him
for his unplayable scores.
His neighbors
would confront him late at night,
Uncle in his underwear.
He would squint at them
like a misanthrope
confronting beggars.
His answer to their complaints?
A slammed door.
Years after his death
they still recall his music,
restless as surf
rumbling across their ceilings.
Groggy, they would bang
on the landlord's door
the next morning
with their usual complaint
about the awful
noise.
V1:
Beethoven Unhappy
To view the trees
across from his apartment,
Uncle hired a stonemason
to knock a hole in a wall.
The landlord, enraged,
demanded Uncle move.
He couldn't satisfy critics
anymore than landlords.
"Why can’t you compose
more like Haydn--
or Mozart?"
Whatever I did to please him—
obtaining lodgings,
purchasing quills,
buying supplies
was met with the same question:
"Where were you?
You are as slow as a day
of fasting."
His orchestras were unhappy,
always plotting rebellions against him
for his unplayable scores.
His neighbors
would confront him late at night,
Uncle in his underwear.
He would squint at them
like a misanthrope
confronting beggars.
His answer to their complaints?
A slammed door.
Years after his death
they still recall his music,
restless as surf rumbling
across their ceilings.
and how groggy, they would bang
on the landlord's door
the next morning
with their usual complaint
about the awful
noise.