my words would lead you to someone not me

in part the many poses we will strike

and strike again, in joy or agony

the burnt-out sage whose mien is

childlike

he burst upon the ruined land
with promises both vague and bold
to make the dull horizon grand
with just the instruments at hand
that all will turn to gold
that all will turn to gold

so, where the sun that hides its face?
now, where’s the light that lately shone?
must dark descend upon the chase
the lowest common bit of base
this ruined land has known –
this ruined land
has known?

the sepulcher is opened wide
and destiny is leering, just inside

a day begins
with public sins
these gangly fools
who know no rules

they’re crossing all these lines
when they should stay in place
to try to change their fates
unfolding into grace

to dare to wander out of class
to leave the destined life behind
the ultimate in sacrilege
for those of sort-enabled mind

they broaden each horizon that they see
an act as though there are no boundaries here
they burst out into hues of vibrancy
these wastrels who should know they are not free

they can’t escape the social cords, the limiting –
that sort of thing will lead to rampant uninhibiting —