CD Cadenza
Surely this violinist will burn with Paganini -
His fingers frantically skittering
From the neck of the burning
Violin strung with his nerves, his arm
The bellows to the flames;
But his fingers may in truth
Be as stiff as mine holding my pen,
For the laser, sharper than Lucifer's lies,
Perfectly remakes his music,
Caught on disc like a poem on paper.