At half past three, You, Summoned me, Abruptly to that baroque court of dancers,
Disguised like figures in the dead of night
Colouring, far away, the sulphurous heavens
Through the flickering shades of Autumn rains
Where droplets navigate boulevards through an ocean
Of Islands, fused with neon, cars, and grimaced limbs
Revealing a melody, mocking the “reality” of it all-
In that archipelago, we the people, simply are moved
Along ladders like Jacob's, where ancient maidens
With fading foundation greet the demented subways’
Cavernous phosphorescent lights, as if this were the first day of creation
Where no-thing or no-one of mere mortal origin
Could entice the faithful received back towards the light
Where trains glowing like terrible earthworms depart
And arrive predictably, announcing the gray rains
To all those destinations never really audibly heard
In that rush, before becoming, and disappearing within ones sight.
And yet we still met, that lone unremarkable day
In that desolate Park, with her sombre solitary ducks
Masquerading like intimations in another man’s mind
Where we always come to grief, like glaciers, fragmenting
Their stratified edges, against the deep, the blue, the abyss
And you returned, wondering “how things simply appear”
In camouflaged shadows hidden amongst the willows
A squirrel, played out his ultimate tune like King Sisyphus
Aware of neither end- You envied his simple purpose
Just as you feared the Metropolis, vibrating, behind like a demon
Whose impenetrable reason, like Descartes, ultimately deluded You-
Yet “we can but pass through it all” as only a lunatic
Or saint could reply- as we left off where anonymous couples
Hooked up the fading afternoon sun upon their frozen breaths
With joggers, passing us invisibly by, with their customary, allotted strain
Smiling at themselves, as if we were already consigned to another realm.
