Can’t the mind see it?
Can’t it fantasize in seconds?
A sky in peach, apricots in blue
A boiling
sea in a tranquil river?
They say it’s all created by the Grand
Design
The trees
The roots
The airy feathers
And the lump of flesh
From carnal delights!
And yet
Why do the eyes cloud itselves
In sheaths of slimy delusions
In wraps of lies, wines, and glimmering
city lights?
And yet
Why don’t the hands bother -
To let go the lengthening shadows
And to fasten the distancing truths?
A drop of lust in love
Water in ink
And lie in truth
Makes it all sultry
Glossy
Likely!
-But-
Which fraudulence
Which artifice
Which impudence
Can make the worms less cankering
On a rotting corpse on a sequestered grave?
