some god

obviously not yours

has smiled upon me with rain

and filled the living air with bouquets of eels

we are great works of art

we are hung we perform we show up

we string em all along

i explain the massive cliffs to critics of the sea

i interpret the crows up to their usual larks

yes some god sends me here

some minor imperfect god to reflect on his world

tell me he says do you enjoy the grey clouds

why you sly old devil i says theyre fantastic

well thats enough of that talk

the thought forms in my head

delusions of splendour diluted

my own accusations drip like poison into my ear

each time i shudder a sailor at sea drowns in the brine

i notice that everything is talking to me or talking at me

the people the humans the strangers the crowd

the softest sweet rain is whispering whispering

 i am so warm you hardly will feel me

you gather afternoon around like loose fitting garments

you stroll through exhibitions of platinum panthers

and mechanical children behaving correctly

and the rails lo are part of the scenery

you see all of rest of yourself miles below

trip on the love that this god is allowing

in miniature voices the sibilant flowers

the vegetal universe is so apparent to ya now

i wonder which rose first

the root or the stem

embrace cactus heart feeling

i spell out His name in liana and vine

i talk of His bliss in gurgling brooks

and rivulets that race over flat stones

i admire his His strength in the double horizon

i see all His virtues in the deepest green sea

somewhere a neptune enters a cave

somewhere an orpheus beloved of jane

somewhere i hammer my arm into shape

that old sick rush the giddy and crush

a song occurs to me as i swagger along

some roman socialite woman beside me who laughs

youre so very cruel arent you….?

3 young maidens run on ahead

does each represent a fork in the clef

does each mean something arcane in the cabbala

are they the norns who measure our lives

i call for my staff

but its the afternoon off

off limits to gulls

off limits to shops

off limits to towers who boast seashore glimpses

off limits to television show bout the mayan

ocean is warmer

still cold but its warmer

half in and half out

half human half fish

half lovely dolphin

half awful shark

half in the light half in the murk

i still wander

and squander

these passing hours

yeah but