Lady, did you see my fugue?
It ran this way,
it said it was finished and I believed it,
it took advantage of my credulity
and ran away, this way,
its nature to flee and mine to follow,
did you, Lady, hear my fugue?
It favors underbrush deep ravines,
hilltops, ruins, crowded streets,
it knows more names than it can touch,
it tries to wrap you in its changes
For there is anger in the human world
and hymn tunes don’t help
need a bolder potion,
ah, I have made a mousetrap for the moon,
now I am him but who cares,
a new slant on every story
but nobody cares,
that leaves me free
for alternate alchemies galore
next year I’ll catch the sun
and pin her to the door —
why not, it’s the house that speaks, not me
Escape the consequences. Born big
or born small, it is your genius
building you out and out and out
from the thought you are. I, Paul,
a citizen of Rome,
tell you this, do not conform
to the system, but renew instead
your first mind.
The mind that makes you
…It seems lunacy to me
to spend your days
going up and down the staircase of yourself,
gymnastic delirium. And to do it,
Valéry cautioned, armed to the teeth,
lunacy. Better be hollow.
Hollow Earth theory should really mean
there is nothing inside the body,
just a central sun peopling vast emptiness.
how precious the sky is,
it keeps us safe,
the trolls inside me can’t handle light,
only in the parking lot understand
the meaning of the place you’ve been,
mall, market, club, cathedral,
all the cars roasting in the moonlight
for all you know having the same dream.
Be different. Look up and dissent.
Nothing lasts up there,
the words dissolve in mind
and we are meek water again —
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