My songs echo
Down the cave, firelit
and late in the flicker of
Electromantic gloom
Aural cusp rushing
from itself
Banging pots and pans with furious
Pull of lashed stars and runes over rough,
Dancing silhouetted walls,
Smeared to splay of echo
Where the lonely phantom roams,
Beating hallway of fictions
Slinking catwalk, electri-cricket hive a-clatter
Din of dusty film projector shimmied chatter
Crashing off poster-strewn tatters
In recurrent celluloid
Dreamcycles
Operatic crescendos, a blurred string of pearls
Twenty-four frames a second
Down the spine of the cave's hollow
Branching, and focused
A spreading darkness,
That pries and seeps of
Minds winged
Through gates
to beyond
bluebird
Azure byways
While my clattering songs
Watch contrails fade
Inside, they
Whisper at hinged doors,
Paw at them for escape
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem