Millenarians' Mirror - Augie March

As a bird you are constant at war,

so sharp and so early,

but the world was so weary before

so how can you expect me to rise in the last light of the moon?

Do you know what these feelings are for?

You dissemble, don’t show them to me,

But the world is not worldly anymore

so how can you expect me to be?

Not the low louse, not the starry mote mouse,

there’s no-one here are lower than me in this house

of the earth, o the earth,

come mimic the moon.

Lintel, lintel, over my door,

Load bearing brow of my galaxy,

Why don’t you break when you’ve broken before?

Banish my ceiling and vanish my floor?

And the world doesn’t hear us anymore,

we are poorer than sounds without echoes,

echoes and only echoes, no more,

engaging in raising the hollowest roar.

It’s the last round and nothing’s been found

save for numinous traces, lines in our faces, in the air…

You are lonely of late,

I am gone, in a state,

There’s nothing to tell you but wait for the earth,

O the earth to mimic the moon.