DiaBLOGue

I asked five diverse scholars to answer the question: What would you change in Mormon musical practice? Here are their replies. —Editor 

Do not think of your suffering. 

Release it 
through your breath 
into the flute.

“The music keeps going and never stops,” 
I tell my son—“Until the bar line?” 
Of course, until the bar line. 
He moves his fingers into place with effort, 
As if moving in the third person; 
As if they are thin sausages on sticks.

A horse-drawn carriage
passes by in another

age—leaves of ash

The church’s framework swayed in the air. 
Inside, big women with big grief 
swayed with all their weight inside, and sang 
big songs to bloom big flowers  

I had no rhythm that day on the bench
sitting in shade, under the oaks and palms.
My thighs stuck to the green bars, 
legs going numb. 
I wanted to stop thirsting. 

(in which mormons worldwide, on easter 2015,  
            do NOT have church service or partake of god’s flesh & blood)

Hsie T’iao** writes a complaint near the Jade Stairs:

o here 
lord—here 
is a platter of treats & refreshment 
in that high priest’s hands— 

muted to inspiration 
since god isn’t here