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. ----...