GREAT HARBINGER
Having been done up by degrees into the
monster now present - image, chimera, isolated
demon, the one with all eyes - I seek nothing
but to be brought back to a more normal
state of earthly decay. I will sag and droop.
I will walk thus, hunchbacked and broken,
through a hundred bedraggled city streets
while the harp man plays a Bolero or something
akin. A circus tune, a riff from West Side Story.
Oh, anything really, just to pierce the gloom.
-
It shouldn't matter whether I hold a broom or
a shovel, for that matter, of gold or straw or
fire or power. I shall walk with my raiment
those thin walkways atop roofs and buildings
which link things to each other. One bare bath
after the next - right past windows of a naked
fury wherein people are deaf or screaming at
each other. I can balance on a beam of string.
-
Like lies and deceit and no candor, all the evasions
I've ever witnessed will gather to haunt me. I will
truly have nowhere to go. But watch me, I ask you,
watch. I can be a great harbinger to things to come.
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