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  • Found Music
  • T.J. McLemore (bio)

Rhythm is the seed, the littlebody we planted in fear of

the dark that rose to adornand outlive us. It crawled

into our beds, flinging offthe furs, then the linens, first

as desire but later as contour,displacement, the fineness

of small faces we sawour best selves in.

So the chords were laid,note on note, like so many

bricks mortared out and up,sometimes augmented, more

often diminished. Lives collideand they recede. The harmonies

elude us, but we grope for themanyway. We hum along, unsure,

as each next movementclimbs over, muddies up, half [End Page 692]

destroys the last. So whatof melody, you ask, what voice

holds up and down these scales,over blue note, your leitmotif,

the hook that sticks, the dance—a wand?—what raised hand— [End Page 693]

T.J. McLemore

t.j. mcLemore lives in Fort Worth, TX, where he teaches at Texas Christian University. He is the winner of the 2016 Richard Peterson Poetry Prize, and his poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Prairie Schooner, Crazyhorse, Crab Orchard Review, Greensboro Review, and others.



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pp. 692-693
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