WATCH THEM DIE
I went home holding the palms from my heavy heart
open like leaves of green lettuce spread out for a feast.
It was another Sunday in May - one coming through
with a message. The castle at the edge of the forest,
right near where the three-ring king had settled in,
was lit by fires and circling domes. Small men were
coming out of the sky, crawling about backwards
where they'd land. I felt somehow out of place.
-
Without any meaning, all this withers.
The cacophony you hear is like some music
of the spheres gone quite maddeningly crazy -
all tympani and gong and racket.
Yes, planets yet hang in a wide,
distended sky, but they long
ago have lost all meaning,
and now we watch
them die.
open like leaves of green lettuce spread out for a feast.
It was another Sunday in May - one coming through
with a message. The castle at the edge of the forest,
right near where the three-ring king had settled in,
was lit by fires and circling domes. Small men were
coming out of the sky, crawling about backwards
where they'd land. I felt somehow out of place.
-
Without any meaning, all this withers.
The cacophony you hear is like some music
of the spheres gone quite maddeningly crazy -
all tympani and gong and racket.
Yes, planets yet hang in a wide,
distended sky, but they long
ago have lost all meaning,
and now we watch
them die.
No comments:
Post a Comment