MYSTERY AND STUPIDITY
I want to conjoin the dead, and bring them back.
It's is the longest day of the year and the things which
are just beginning will still have their ends, just a bit
longer 'til that fabric rends. It's all silence now,
everything is. A stupid silence that rules the day.
-
The man with the Toy Store is running. His Lionel
Trains will not wait, the rubber ducky beneath his
arm is too large for any tub I've ever seen;
still I want to conjoin the dead.
-
When this morning light starts echoing down,
between buildings and street, on Seventeenth
or on Twenty-Third, things will all be different
again. The Chelsea Hotel will run a new light
on staggering dames and twisted old men, the
needle-marked denizens of the now and the then.
-
I want to awake dragons, still the running force,
elope with the Earthman's new wife! It is all I
can do from driving away every natural thing :
the deer in my headlight, the raccoon fighting
fists with its brother the squirrel. Can you find
me, can you, in this puzzle?
-
It is the longest day of the year and I am gone
mad again with the force within - a sense of
revelry and age. I have been here ten thousand
years, and the mystery and stupidity run on.
-
This coffee tastes like saddle polish. This water
tastes like soil. They way I used to run my world,
the gnash of coal and oil - these are all the things I
carry, what I bring forth from my other world.
Listen up, oh stupid people ! the mysteries are
unfurled ! and it is the longest day of the year
indeed!
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