Have I yet reached the land of the Unreal City?
Where lilacs and daisies and little fairies
Dance and sing and swoon
To the music and the rhythmic grumblings
Of the words carved in the jello stone
Or the pinwheel
Or the bleeding angels of man’s better nature
‘To the East’ said the mystic
In a speckled cloth worn backward
‘To the West’ said the bard
Naked and bearded and fire-cheeked
Have I yet reached the land of the Unreal City?
Where fancies turn and churn
Are curling thick and sweet
For I have searched and fasted
And but wept my eyes inside the mask
For I have searched and prayed
I’ve found the clues on former Water Land
And in the air I blew away
And trusting tattered shellfish ruins
Of the barricaded sea Protect Me
Have I yet not reached the land of the Unreal City?
How could I have not?
Drink from the cup, my water chalice
Swish Swish and trenchant pause
Amorphous, cool, and steely riveting
Spill and see the bubbly enhancement
Enchantment
Trances strayed and swept to Beauty
With gun Maud linen my sweet tongue
What flowers find in moderation
Chrysanthemum, Hyacinth, Crocus, Rose
What flowers snag my sod den toils
A wayward thorn
A horn of foil
Beckoned minds and space encoil
Die not, poor toil
In antipathies embroiled
Bespoiled, for thou art not so
Art for Art’s sake, damn you
I have reached the Unreal City
A land of bards and wayward mistresses
All fancies strayed upon a mask
And tattered flesh and vindication
Of excrement and paper print
And though discernment (weary) is
The go-between licks up after-images
A-rife and wry a-wrought
The jiggly enhancement was
‘Dispassionate’ sang Freud
(A rhythmic bubbling of cold blood)
Yet in-quest of sodden quest
Entrancement snakes a path
“Unreal City
