To wonder about the promises
We made, or why the time came
So late or so soon.
And wonder where the
Many-coloured river of lights leads us,
Day to day. And why it didn’t turn out
We are here now with the lights flashing
And the silence of the sea, ships’ passing.
Go ahead, laugh! the wild gull of freedom
Waits, and screams his half-mad
And what do I have but words
To reach you across the distances?
I have my kiss,
I have a flood of freshwater tears.
All the stories have been told.
I will not tell you a story.
I will mix you a melody, with a
Thousand ingredients. A melody
Is where it is, it never leads somewhere.
It is either enough or it is nothing.
A melody, it is the stuff of paradise
And dreams; it is the stuff of an empty,
Filthy alley, with cyanide queens
And the growl of hyenas.
The glowing panther eyes become
The flowing semen of the mainstream.
With its eternal ways and means,
Mainstreet. The monkeys laugh!
The impotent bones crack.
All that was proud pounds between
The sidewalk cracks. The wind hits
Like a hammer, the last of winter
I wait now now while the spring melts
Into the morningglow.
And I write you this prescription
From my heart and soul. God knows
It might be all I can give to you that
I wait here in the wildwind and the
Alleyfilth, while the rats bloat,
While the whirlwind turns a
Galaxy of worlds. While the gull
Flies through a new dawn,
And I discard my old clothes.
I wait while the old winter dies
And spring blows.
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