In the museum, eyes of gods

interrogate: their guardians,

the truth-seeker, that comic

construct, time. The sculptures

in their marble-floored pavilions

echo eerily, as if implanted

in time’s cochlea. 

 

Excess of limestone resonates,

reverberates with crystalline: 

(ferries heard approaching islands

long before they’re visible). So 

in old museums crammed 

with calcite-crystal artefacts, 

sound is captured and relayed

in chthonic frequencies.

 

Here are hives and palaces

whose voice intensifies and builds,

stripped of singularity,

in elemental particles;

a recombined and disembodied,

disconcerting synthesis

humming wordless dithyrambs

in deities’ sarcophagi—