Failing To Yield
Drunk with the world, Rimbaud
proclaimed his genius to the wind
and we are caught by the flotsam
of his words like foam from a tide
lifting the skirt of a beach.
Young man raging against the certainty
of experience, the rancidness of governments
the circus of wonders that cracks
heads denser than suns and
more brilliant than agate.
This divine surge carrying us across
bamboo gardens of grace
We ascend through the mist
Page 45 (Black Book: Light Heart)
|
|
|
|
