Goodbye
I suppose I should tell you without all this fooling around
just what I think I'm doing, since after all,
if not for you I'd never have stammered out
these dreams disguised as the obvious, which are made
from your own thoughts and feelings, not from words.
Call me a kind of banker: the coin I trade,
like any cash, is only an idea
empowered by a universal trance
to be as undeniable as the sun.
I can arrange to help you pay the price
of being human: the treasure I hold in trust
can underwrite that endless enterprise
whose crushing cost no one can bear alone.
When you open this book, you enter a precious room
where you can afford to listen, and I to speak,
exempt from the penalties imposed on truth.
The mutilated torturers in their grim workshops
would kill us for what we do here, if only they knew,
because we make the laws that make the laws
and build the common dream, from which no power
but death can wake us. And when we join the billions,
what profit can we weigh against that loss?
What immortality shall we have lived?
Our skies are clear of angels; in our shrines
only the spider stirs the silent dust;
we have no souls, or if we do, they die
with all the rest. Only the song is real
and ageless as the baby at the breast,
whose breath no taint of change or time disturbs.
Come dance to it now, as you have all your life,
my darling conspirator over a million years!
===========================
Jon Corelis
[log in to unmask]
www.geocities.com/jgcorelis
===========================
____________________________________________________________________
|