Brought to Life Brought to life through its desires Sung, enshrined in mortal clasps Bashed and blazing sten-gun flames Of truthful poison to all not famed To see the point in living section . . . Full-time luminous Incandescent with all that’s there When you turn your head But cannot stare Behind the window-glazed night . . . Shopped into the bargain These figurative dresses That clothe we know not what Self-imposed alien isolation: We are lords of creation . . . If you perceive what’s before But not what’s in store Perhaps someone’s tending half a snigger For your claims to be more cavernous Than what you’re parted from . . . That other domain That your turn will outlinger. (First published by Pentagraph Press in “Fantasy and Freedom”, 1995.) |
© 2023 Pete Gioconda & Black Cat Communications
All rights reserved