Poetry at Sangam



by Ulrike Almut Sandig

when the last song is done, when
the sine wave of the last chord

is moving off towards the horizon ∞
in small and smaller and almost

imperceptible waves, when the vinyl disc
has stopped turning, the diamond stylus

circles, when from the two blue speakers
an ocean almost vanished softly roars

when the heart chambers flicker, and when
you are with me and hear all of this

then go and tell the others too: we
have taken leave of our senses

but can still, still, just be heard.