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456
Oh, Well, so much for our suffering
that which has come so recently from
an orange haze
an asian nostalgia that
grows pale when opened
that transfigures all these prisoners
that sacred reference holding a pound of man
in the hollowed hand
tides of chill and sickness now inaugurate
this lengthening
this mortgaged scrutiny
this excuse for sweet blue suggestion
457
He said "love's a bitch."
I offered to enclose belief for all those
who had seen the gods
on quiet afternoons
while engaged in anonymous conduct
and bathing in the frozen half-light
of shame and highest charm
I discover a box of noses
and give them all to you
you use them to complete a circuit
to open a door
to the astronomy of purpose
to a mantle of objection
to a moment of fiction where
I am in a circle of stolen oldness
and I am awakened by the voice of a siren who says,
"this is how they are damaged,
this is where they are broken."
*T.S. Eliot "The Hollow Men."
1 comment:
Number three "TS" is a joy. The contrasts are never ending.
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