As we are talking about origins and rituals and myth etc again, here's a
poem that relates to them and music too:
GOTHIC MYTH
There is that place. Not hic et nunc
amid the fumes. We trusted it, for a
nanosecond, tampering with our breathbeats
like any nanny. Somewhere unsettling, nicht,
between the morbid monks of memory & the breasts
of consolation, charmed & charming like a dictionary
in braille, where we alliterate in transposition, delayed
phases on the staggered ground merely & madly
increasing, well, you know... menhirs on brilliant
corners, ghosts of blue cornfields, whose rampant ears
we husk, pulsing with curdled music: call them monuments,
or pleasures like dolphins, to hump the candid waves.
You know, don't you: the belfry is a vampire bat, blood-
less as legend. Du kennst a star-struck stone,
trembling for the tidal spume, it's been described
for you, venus marina --
(it is a porous thing, but Minoan...)
Pasts are not promises, futures not despair,
old songs like last roses pine to be presented --
the smoky traces of autumn indecision are burning
to tell us something, chimes remind one
of almost anything, cowls will be
the fashion soon... All our tomorrows
spindrift in the wind, like lollipops unlicked
and pearly as your toenails, which I may never touch.
Your nakedness gleams with a salty smile
through the trappings I have quite forgotten. Put
them in the refrigerator. Let's go back.
Cheers, Martin
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