BY WAY OF INDRA'S NET
It was the worst way to run or hide
Many years passed and still she was the beginning
With a wind and a pure voice.
The worst was over and the sun was risen;
Ten days flying and no one was the wiser;
In the gutters, gizzards and gutted hearts.
She was kissless that raw winter;
Nine out of ten diamonds were lost to the fishes
There was a road and how wanting;
Nine of the ten had dwindled in smoke,
And the worst was over, and the dead beginning
Made speachless sounds this raw winter
The lost princes made inroads on disaster,
While the king and his riddle waited.
And the road went wider, untrampled, untorn
On Gabriel's belly was the beak of a bird
And the sundry stars went wasteless and wantless
Their leapard paws on the deck of the dame
With her well-worked robes in the stand of the Seine
With their clever teeth two fishes deep
In the wounds of their mates
Two fishes deep.
poetry ii. main