Singing Along

Singing Along

Recognition begets sound,
some closed-mouthed noise
mmmm, as if in agreement.
A person we re-encounter,
and we speak their name
to them or those around us,
I know her, that’s so-and-so,
An object we know and see
again, we name it, Do you
know what this is, we ask
others, not because we want
to know but because we
do know already, and must
repeat the truth to make it
seem useful. Yesterday,
in the movie theater, a man
sang along to the Cole Porter
song filling one scene:
And that’s why birds do it.
bees do it, even educated
fleas do it. He greeted
the song there in the dark,
singing quietly from behind
all our heads, s’s reaching
toward the screen, the music
a rope he was pulling in, with
some big memory on the other
end rolling out to be looked at.