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507
bird of hell, tell me about your dreams,
are you singing?
do the idiots know their impatient name?
I will show you the window of hell
if you teach me the right music.
I will watch you from across the sea
if you pay my way
will art leave us
lost and unfinished,
penniless and unwell,
and an octave apart?
take note, bird-
you have been seen here before
we all have.
508
Yes, the priest of Penrose
shot the spirit- shot it through with
penance and ash
causing the skin to come off
starting with the tail
leaving us to only be known
by the meat
yes, we know the clever jungle
will bite us in our weakness
we know the night will explode in the sun
*Rudolf Arnheim
and joy will run out
we know what we can't hide
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