Ah, que la Vie est quotidienne...
-
Jules Laforgue 1
POSTHUMOUS COMMUNICATION
Outside the frosted window I see
....glaciers scraping over Iceland
........in flight between nations and pages
of Patchen’s 2
giddy lamentations for
....”spirit-forsaken and soldiery institutions.”
........This odd airship thrusts into velocity,my hobbled future and wobbily past
....beside serene Pacific ferocity.
........Posthumous communication
leaves me unthrilled foreseeing
....a dwindling resevoir of readers
........in the to come that shall never be.The carnivorous teeth of the days
....still masticate the memory of man,
........crunching this scribe’s efforts
to ring eternity’s bell. Tiger fangs break
....the antelope’s femur, reducing to silence
........the playful cloven hoof-beats of Pan.
I did not dream this exile
....this strange divorce from my brethren.
........Au contraire, my friends, I seekcommunication with the living
....profound contact with my contemporaries.
........So – for Whom it may concern, I write
35,000 feet over the Rocky Mountains
....over epic dishonesty of Excited States.
........I nail shut sarcophagi of wordswith the dead as my contemporaries,
....the living as history filed in oblivion,
........and unborn poet-lovers nothing butsquiggly hypotheses in this ballpoint pen
....ts-kipping as it fatally runs out of ink.
I willed, willed to be wrong!
And helping humans I found trouble for myself.
– Aeschylus, Prometheus Bound
Indeed, many cosmogonies do agree:
who alchemically transformed
to his brother, gorilla, and watch him
box of laquered wood with equal gusto
For this transgression Prometheus
Yes, he paid a high price for befriending man
he shall have his way. Yet, the crime
With compassion and trust I too listened |
Bit of bad luck on a fishing trip.
Six dollars worth of gas will get me there.
Is there a more gullible fool than an artist?
Shall I trust humanity yet again?
My wife, sweet girl, thought me a fool
so he could promptly repay the loan.
CHORUS OF ANXIETIES:
when Prometheus bet the sacred fire? |
of an older brother to a mentally retarded
the harsh degree of his retardation.
CHORUS OF MISGIVINGS:
– to these witless children – the sacred fire!
the millennia ahead with grim forebodings –
are astonished to find nothing undefiled by man.
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Yes, reader, you know the story by now,
( and was by subtle Shelley later unbound ),
and how I have waited six years now .
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2006 edition, 100 pages
$19