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Coming to the Senses
And so now to this
-
suspension,
the up ended basement
soft machine and gas cooker
a child who can't sleep
thoughts crowd in
bouncing off the walls
like familiar spectres
they fragment in the music
thawing the edge of frozen desperation.
In this solitude
awaiting the chance
to wreak revenge
on refined obliqueness,
on misspent aeons of imbibing
the pleasure principle
rolling like a tide we were engulfed
no more surely than I am now
let what is fine in us
shine
let us grow young before our own eyes
merciful spirit.
(3/12/81)
Evolution
and afterwards
h0me