| Meanwhile, back in the real world
|
| I compass the weather
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| And wonder if «I love you»
|
| Is the verb-the first and found
|
| The first sound that shone forth
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| The ⲗⲟⲅⲟⲥ, the first formed flesh
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| The finger pointing to the pit/the beast
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| The thumb staining the gown
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| Claiming the throat in the crowd
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| Sunny are the fireflies
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| The night stuck so close around them
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| Their beams bold in the blackness
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| Clumping the dark before them
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| Throw littl lightnings
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| On the shellboxes
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| And th peep sheen show
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| Lures the baby to its death
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| Boys into centuries
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| That is how they made them
|
| Saddle black helicopters
|
| Place Royalty in their tiny windows
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| The dodo, the doom
|
| All that breed and bold
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| The cheque leads the master
|
| Above the marvellous call of Christ the Comet
|
| Fireball above you
|
| And under your feet
|
| Is the heart that will pull you downwards
|
| Clownwards into the unemptied crate
|
| That hisses and chatters
|
| Above the crates of bliss and ciphers
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| Are empty
|
| The place, the noon
|
| Is empty
|
| The analysis queues and arrows soar
|
| Fly, fly, fly the eagles
|
| Back to the joker and the furniture veneer
|
| I waited in the snow
|
| For the flowers to unsleep
|
| And petals to become landscape
|
| And the laughing boat to sail
|
| To send over the towers of the village
|
| But you better meanwhile
|
| Always, BABYLON
|
| Was breathing and bubbling flame
|
| And fires flying in the scarmarshes
|
| Of the stars: BaalStorm
|
| Put yourself in my place
|
| Put your face in my mask
|
| The hated taskmaster
|
| In the troubled heart
|
| That burrows deepest into the slit I stole
|
| The oven boils
|
| The laundry soiled
|
| Mundane massacre in NH
|
| 7 die in the street or the Church
|
| Or under the canopy of the clifs
|
| Red the soil
|
| And lamblike the clouds
|
| Clambering over the Semitic cedars
|
| Of beautiful Lebanon
|
| The lily is snatched
|
| Into the ravine
|
| But the hook, the hand
|
| The honurs and your calves sped by
|
| In the twilight of BaalStorm
|
| Sing Omega
|
| Sing Omega
|
| Do not let Omega sing you
|
| Open the door
|
| To left and right
|
| Hell
|
| But in the ascent
|
| To the bloodflood
|
| That lambs down
|
| The woundway
|
| Wonderful
|
| On the way down the highway
|
| To the heights
|
| The stones slept by sulphur
|
| But mainly wax was the moon
|
| Sunshone on the salt
|
| The columns of praise
|
| Down we tripped
|
| The loaded tranceway
|
| Salaam! |
| Salaam!
|
| The thistles cover up the hooves of the storm
|
| Crayon and chalk streaks in my hand
|
| I stripped my mind and soul away
|
| And hastened the face
|
| Of the imperfect storm
|
| Her craters dreaming of the perfect dark
|
| Herded sawn
|
| The split of the atom
|
| The infinite leak
|
| Leaches syllables like snow
|
| From the central crown
|
| The dirt ascendant
|
| The prickly fires
|
| Of the Last Night Twist
|
| The crease of the eyes
|
| Boiling in the face
|
| Who stares from the trenches
|
| The mask of stars
|
| The plants which joust
|
| Struggle for the exit train
|
| I saw the dragonflies alight
|
| In their splitsecond glory
|
| My mind was on the line
|
| On which the nightsoil drifted
|
| How dear was metal
|
| How precious the milk
|
| How murderous the corn
|
| The barley, the wheat
|
| «Your flaxen hair», the cliché sang
|
| «As golden crop on the Rhine»
|
| But watch for storms, inclement weather
|
| Freaks of nature
|
| The ruby cow
|
| Ashen in a threeday temple
|
| Watch for the wood of blood
|
| The witches dancing tightly
|
| The light fantastic
|
| Sing oh Sing Ⲱ
|
| Don’t let the world download you quite
|
| As quaint as the song sounds
|
| Sing away the rust on the throat
|
| In the Marian blue boat
|
| I glance at the pots, the shards
|
| Search for ostraca in the heiratic stain
|
| Poor memes of breastplates
|
| And lances and armour
|
| The master archer grows arrows in the grove
|
| Before your pagan fall
|
| The olive groves held gods
|
| Dreams leaked onto tongues
|
| And shed lots
|
| In the cool olive evening
|
| Before Sodom and Salt
|
| Set the world on fire
|
| The breeze picked up |