Tabula Rasa

Tabula Rasa

A giant insect reels under me.  Whilst this goes away, the symphony of nature's god cataclysm goes on

And I dream of an Antarctic whirling snow, blasted reefs and cracked Cthulhu gongs, antediluvian ice monsters, plateau far off of Leng and crooked teeth pulled with a huge explosion from the rocket floor.  Grey brick and tenement rotten face, blind eyes sunken, blue lips and grey-splattered white vein cheeks, pupils revolting in the ghost wolves running softly,  the tongue swallowing the absolute wastes.

Moist, Victorian castle leaf garden raindrop wind butte steppe-racing horse flying mane in the breeze, howling ancient windgods beneath the ColumbiaGorge, cascading anubis flattened area heaving river and campus dropdrain imbecile canals on Mars, trembling, bobbling moron head with bright green eyelids, collapsed cheeks and hollow laughter rolling over the first rocks on earth, a joke designed by God, his flushed face shaking with worn pockets, on his throne with a twelve-eyed lamb, the vegetable immediately unfolding in the copper-coloured sky.  Adam and Eve hierosgamos ivy gaping dark shuttered woods, spirit shelter elephantine organic intestinal oceanic underneath lightning bursts of orange steam, testicle green-matted idol under tropical antique unknown and unguessed SUN.

JF 1985

Published in The Worker Poet 11,  1987, published by Michael R. Hill, Franklin, Pennsylvania.