The Assassin and the Dahlia -3-

Aftermath

Mise en scene

the hinterland of my life
poetry; it is floodlit
but carefully limited by
the fluid circumference
of this dream-theater

When I come to poetry

when I come to poetry
I become bodiless
my all-pervasive soul defies both life and death
black days illuminate
the earthly sports and pastimes
of a bright night
when I come to poetry
the smell of my bedroom overcomes me
each moment I die
I'm a live spirit
the black temperature of my ignited coils
hurls me to the rooftop
and at midnight
my midnight forms roam
in a dream procession
through the ephemeral darkness
the roads instead of going to Rome
pierce through my body
with all their crossways and alleys
when I come to poetry
I'm a lone traveler within and
without my Self