they talk down through
the centuries to us,
and this we need more and more,
the statues and paintings
in midnight age
as we go along
holding dead hands.
and we would say
rather than delude the knowing:
a damn good show,
but hardly enough for a horse to eat,
and out on the sunshine street where
eyes are dabbled in metazoan faces
i decide again
that in theses centuries
they have done very well
considering the nature of their
brothers:
it's more than good
that some of them,
(closer really to the field-mouse than
falcon)
have been bold enough to try.
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Comments
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I imagined his voice reading spoken word as I read, it was then even more most enjoyable! That kind of sad, flip off voice bordering on smarmy, someone you would'nt want to lend your car to but do anyway for some strange reason. Good stuff.
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I have to agree with the above comments. This is going to take more than one sitting to digest, and understand it's worth. I will comeback, and comment later.
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It's one of those poems that I need to read many times to really appreciate. At the moment I admit to only liking the first verse, probably because I understand it better than the rest.
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