Wild the gestures, liquid muscles, rippling eyes and a voice that
is
so
alone with you in a room that sometimes even you aren't there:
But all in vain,
The great god Pan
is
dead.
3
Let the sluices and sloshes of goblets and bottles lap high,
Let the air
Chum and gurgle with waves of poured liquids and vinous good
feeling
As
we reeling
From one bar to another in search of a brother get lost
In an early fall frost.
For in spite of our prancing and Corybant dancing as lamsters from
care
The trains rattle by
And the choleric sky
As
we lean out the moving subway car's window
Toward the iron stancheon and its splattered future of our blobs of
blood and brain
Has decreed and glaring still decrees that we die.
IN THE DARK
I wandered in my mind as in the dark.
I stumbled over a chair, ran into a wall
Or
another wall, I wandered down a hall
And into another room, the same as before.
I stumbled against a wall, I felt the floor
Carefully with each foot, I found a door
And went into another room, the same as before.
I wandered in my mind, I was in the dark.
I sidled up against .another wall,
I shouldered along it, searching for a door,
And found one, opening out into a hall
That led to another room, the same as before.
In fear I tuned my voice to a little tune,
Alan Ansen
