Beating on the salted black drums
outside my open glass wall I hide behind.
I can rise and swim in sky matter
deep into the confines of space.
I run away and run away from love.
I can’t find the meaning of toads.
Kingdom of heaven looking down,
and all I can do is look back up.
Every time the snow falls I hear chimes.
Some extraneous neural impulses,
firing like rockets in a clouded sky.
And here I am, simply as I am.
Couth and benign men in my dreams
that built the court they stand so elegant upon.
I am glass, just like my world, seeking sight,
for the eyes I stole only see so far.
Seedless nights, opaque mornings,
cool noontimes, buried afternoons,
sexual dusk, and convulsing new moons
find me as the wolf, the hunter hunted.
Concepts of romance are lost in the desert,
and here stay ghostly visages of the 18th century.
Bumblebee please teach me to sting,
because retaliation is an impossibility right now.
Sea rolls, see rolls, seething dragons behind the wall,
and my knight has turned on me at the last.
The doors are all wide open like caverns,
so I wait for the wailing wind to come and take me.
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