the dream is gone and still as ice that glaciers down some mountain splice and I am carried underneath with stones to cling to by my teeth weather forecast always before the final terror a luscious peace not yet the signal bell not yet the swift alarm the sleeper has another hour the worker has a holiday still eases the dawn forward still comes the morning toward open the cities' piers open frontiers an early spring being everything the last kiss like the first the best without the worst always after the initial fear a new release not yet the sharp compel not yet the threatened harm the body has a lazy power the brain has an agile way so warm the fireside within so rich the harvest every bin secure the outer walls secure the stalls a deep serenity without enmity the first signs like the last the future in the past measured interval the morning speeds to a full stop lands in the park and lights a cigarette-- still fifteen minutes to burn and then noon the train comes along, drops through the darkness and forgets-- till five o'clock returns and the news night wakes with a gong rings bells in the brain and runs off shouting-- sleep dresses itself and wakes, shaking skies ricochet downward, prong ciliate streaks of rain with gun shells routing-- a mad head on a shelf laughs, breaking now the moon blankets over the dead the warmth their lover bodies were denied they lie on alien bed who failed to live who tried, whose eyes are wide to heaven knows what stars what glories fugitive o tell me mars to every action is there an equal and opposite reaction black sun the night is white, ah strange the world I knew grown changed for sun is black with days I can not see amazed all has reversed, gone void each thought a masked deploy confusing sense: heat cold more less, body and soul only the light of dreams in which I stand blasphemed lost blind, a sack of straw facing windy mouths abhorred land is accursed, sea slimed with foulest human crimes at what expense to hide the fratricidal eye the ghosts of years file past like candles in a glass and I a sound unheard to stop the murderer dawn chanticleers no peace there is no west no east space closes round the speck man claims as architect log for a voyage we have taken to words on page without speech we have taken to birds in cage within reach forsaken the meaning of lips forsaken the free wing that dips we have shaken the fruitful tree of belief we have shaken the brutal sea for relief mistaken the evils of sin mistaken the wheels that spin then who of us shall slake the salt wound on the tongue who shall wake the nightingales marooned here among o wander the world for the garden that lies on the floor of atlantis or roof of the skies