Wednesday, February 28, 2007

the edge, no. 2

sitting at the edge, just an
incautious fellow
by the dark hollow
i've made of the night
53 floors climb below me
raised in steel and raw wind
each voracious
each with its yammering
and i'm sometimes troubled
sometimes worried
will i fall

bring my mirror a little
up here where i may make
some chatter with the gods
how do i compare?
is it wrong to admire
what can steal the very grace
of heaven

sitting at the edge, just
singing to the clouds
as they whirl and give nod
rumble with appreciation
i'm shaking this throne
with laughter
spying on the little people
praying and dancing
floor by floor
passing love like lollipops
tasty lemon drops
maybe if i snap my fingers
i can be king

come taste my command
of lust
but eat it carefully
drink it cautiously
it consumes more rabidly
than blood
and i have no use for
an old and used servant

are you

i can make you mortal
you fear that you might
live forever
let me take that uneasy
i can remove that tortured
no more than summer dew
random and ill-suited to
your improper garden
believe in me

do you?


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