AND JUST WHEN I THOUGHT THE EARTH WAS TURNING COLD
–all the ancient fields of my youth, the sweet meadow
–just when my old shepherd’s head was a-going sheeplike itself
–snowy, poor-sighted, far too slow
–then and just then
–that new lamb came into the fold
And the earth turned over again, and no more old.
NOCTURNE (a duet)
This blank naked staff you fill with your love notes.
from these separate chords of our sexes
these grand symphonies of our organs
scoring the music of the sheets,
let’s rhythm up a generation
with echoes of ourselves.
songs of the future
harmonized
in fast
time
!
BRIDGES WALLS AND DOORS
liars(lovers)(artists)
execute an honest
condemned activity
misshaping reality
art is a seed a hedge
love is a need a bridge
that connects a leisure
to unextinguished torture
greenest seeds weed their way
from criminalities
too covert to commit
and too active to stay hid
the right to scream is held
only by us tortured
the will is a wall made
to support or separate
the corpse is tradition’s
usual exhaustion
of palettes and menus
and an unfreedom to choose
love and art are the words
used to mimic or urge
the word is a closed door
but an urge opens the door
COUNTING THE COCKS IN THE HEN HOUSE
How many celebrants have danced in your penetralium?
Your hangar has sheltered how many planes?
COME THE REVOLUTION
Which among you shall being sandwiches?
And who’ll organize the selfies?
Which manifesto would you execute?
“The sky must be purged if the earth is to prevail!”
“The earth must be buried for Heaven to reveal!”
Which Utopia would you provoke?
Which of the pasts should be banned?
But don’t be the freak hot on the runway
or the gangster in church.,
don’t be the priest caught in the whore house,
or banker man in the line-up.
[The democracy entered upon the struggle with dictatorship heavily armed with sandwiches and candles. — Trotsky]