A poem inspired by The Muse of Cold Earth.
Daydream
There is a place behind the eyes
Which fills all empty spaces
With transgressions, animal input
Plagued social ills
A tablet of translation for things that might be and might be again
There’s a heart that seeks to believe that the tall grass is full of serpents
That a cloven hoofed devil has chosen you as his target
And everyone is watching you
To say what you say on the talk-show
At the behest of the traffic director, we made our way slowly across the crosswalk
Only to find that it took us nowhere
I gave in to the social pressure of submission and
Came to faun over physical depiction
Beauty in the eye of the unseen
Rolling like mist around fabricated corners
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