fredag 11. mai 2012

Over known fields with an old friend in dream I walked, but came sudden to a strange stream. Its dark waters were bursting out most bright from a great mountain's heart into the light. They ran a short course under the sun, then back into a pit they plunged, once more as black as at their birth; and I stood thinking there how white, had the day shone on them, they were, heaving and coiling. So by the roar and hiss and by the mighty motion of the abyss I was bemused, that I forgot my friend and neither saw nor sought him till the end, when I awoke from waters unto men saying: 'I shall be here some day again.'


Junkie Monkey...

Shoulders sag,
The pull of weighted needling.
Arms drag, smacking wet in soft bone
Sockets.


Knees thaw,
Their familiar magic lost.
Old bend and
Lock and bend forgot.


Teeth rock in fetid gums.
Eyes dart, die, then float in
Simian juice.


Brains reel,
Master charts of old ideas erased.
The routes are gone beneath the tracks
Of desert caravans, pre-slavery years ago.


Dreams fail,
Unguarded fears on homeward streets embrace.
Throttling in a dark revenge
Murder is its sweet romance.


How long will
This monkey dance ?


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