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.)


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Pete Gioconda