Still life with Telescope

Across the marsh the calls of sound,
And I received them in a trance.
Undead noble princes and teacher’s chalk
With eyes flaming to advance.
No meteorite, no angel of night
Swimming naked across the swill.
And I was above the splinted dove,
And the days were getting darker, darker still.

I’ve lived a lie, an ancient lie,
With a slogan too silent to detect,
And fool’s fire flaming from the blue
With nothing solid to protect.
My beautiful dreams in headlight beams
Throwing everything to the spill.
I must remake myself awake,
And the days were getting darker, darker still.

The stylish crowd at the gates of noise,
The same as those they think they aren’t,
Dive into the charges of lily pads
And get caught in preacher’s web of rot.
I’ve fought too hard to sign that card,
And their commands begin to trill.
On this road the concrete corrodes,
And the days were getting darker, darker still.

The frogs have flopped on the boardwalk
With its self-important slime,
Which leads me awakened and unsteady
To the fisheries of the mind.
There is a space, there is a place,
Shimmering way up on the hill –
And I will go when the truth’s aglow,
And the days were getting darker, darker still.