Perched on cliff-edge fevered with fall's looming death
as seaspell wells along swaying flats of Susquehanna
I watch with eyes too long shielded from pure life and death.
Here cut all waters of Earth through its crust dusted with conceited architects
who stack dreams on fancied grounds of 'reality'
and here fall those plateaus of hope for Earth everlasting
fed with arrays of amulets and chains of lovely deceit.
All offerings to imagined Eternity wash off the cliff
to the swirling embrace of Mother Water, meandering into the distance
and the cool home of Chaos
beyond Chesapeake sewage, and the reach of my pen

and there, beyond all hope and despair, dwell I
father of all illusion, loveslave of that void.

I calm myself with one silent glance.




© G.Cassel 2004