BAUDELAIRE'S ALBATROSS
Why here in these crazy, frozen wastes?
Why now in this ice? What makes me think
now of these sudden and remembered things?
Like the albatross of Baudelaire's poem, tethered,
and with those big wings drooping deckside while
captive and tied, the sad and awful paradigm of
limitations holds me down as well. I am as if
frozen in some cumbersome block of ice.
-
'Its great white wings drag at its sides like a
pair of unshipped oars' - that's how he says
it exactly. Broken, defamed and unsettled
spirit, hold still. I hurt by just the thinking.
-
My mirage, as well, it would seem is solid
and heavy; holding me down the same.
The ice and the mentor'd fantasy, they
are both working to rule me, settled,
broken, defamed. Unsettled as well?
Yes, yes, both myself do well define.
Why here in these crazy, frozen wastes?
Why now in this ice? What makes me think
now of these sudden and remembered things?
Like the albatross of Baudelaire's poem, tethered,
and with those big wings drooping deckside while
captive and tied, the sad and awful paradigm of
limitations holds me down as well. I am as if
frozen in some cumbersome block of ice.
-
'Its great white wings drag at its sides like a
pair of unshipped oars' - that's how he says
it exactly. Broken, defamed and unsettled
spirit, hold still. I hurt by just the thinking.
-
My mirage, as well, it would seem is solid
and heavy; holding me down the same.
The ice and the mentor'd fantasy, they
are both working to rule me, settled,
broken, defamed. Unsettled as well?
Yes, yes, both myself do well define.
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