It's an all new script;
a grain of soul plucked from the brows of mellow hipsters,
children of Pan, soilders of the sacred wood.
Stained and smarting, the blood of Loki blackened my soul.
To be new baptized in the bush,
roadside relief, moon mountain harvest.
I arrive.
This is where I belong,
up near the mountian's frosty breath,
clothed as an iron-horse warrior,
alone and thinking: consume it all baby; you're free.
"Baccus, I'll be with you tommorow.
Tonight it's time for healing."
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1 comment:
I like the mythological references and the alliteration ("stained and smarting", "roadside relief, moon mountain harvest"). I'm not sure about the title, but I like the poem's development, and the ending -- with the speaker's voice coming through clearer -- is a pretty cool effect. You really pay close attention to sound quality. Very Beatnik.
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