O Novo Mundo Estranho
His staircase is composed of human beings
crouched on all fours, like dogs at his command;
He stretches out to you a taloned hand,
his bearing and composure like a king's;
All round about his head the colors shift--
the world is suddenly liquid and strange;
his thoughts entire geometries derange
and set all moral sanity adrift;
His cape a devil's wings, his eyebrow creased
with fury, his top hat an altar stone
whereon is sacrificed and stripped to bone
your remnant mind, awakening the beast--
So best sit back and just enjoy the show,
in this strange world of Zé do Caixão.
"Guess who?"
My tiny paintings are humbled by your poetry. I tip my fabulous hat to you, Vicar!
ReplyDeleteDoes it count for something that I made a silkscreen of that photo of Coffin Joe? OK WAIT! Here's a FLAWLESS plan to make BIG MONEY--we can go halvsies on tshirts with my silkscreen on the front and your poem on the back ;)
Kate--it's a deal! Probably the *only* way I could make Big Money off my writing. ;P
ReplyDeleteI dig it. Very cool.
ReplyDeleteMagnifique! I am especially fond of the notion of setting "all moral sanity adrift."
ReplyDeleteBetter get a move on, before all the lakes freeze over!
Mad Hatter lyrics, if I ever I heard...
ReplyDelete