Poem: Maudlin Furies

 

Not me, I know the ghouls in the grass

and often fear the waking dream;

 

The cage is quiet-

quiet, quiet

how many times must we go through it?

Forever foolish

we begin with laughter

and end with slaughter;

 

I melt like fudge

and you harden like nougat,

again the chill descends

we're ever closer

but never near;

 

I feel lost

among the angels

where I stand,

lost demon,

I'm a stork gone to seed

a worm to start with woe

and end with why;

 

Small birds peck my cheek

this week's its starling-time,

whispering its hoarse, dusty whisper-

when leaves fall, I fall with woods of them,

entire woods,

the bluebottle falls

your lap's finer;

 

I desire the freedom of the fen-

the fen, the fen!

All else is dead

I am dust

Can't be more

Can't be less

man is forever steeped in lust;

 

The wheel has come full circle

I dreamt of you again

where I left you-

Unless I never did. 

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from A Sad Piper 1994