On my victrola- Patti Smith: Dr*am of Lif*.

IV.

So hist’ry was too hard for us.
In phobic orthodoxy night
lungfish in solitary pain
pray hilarious basilisk

and limp a waltz, and limp a waltz.
Faith gray as Garland playground glass
joins blood musk and carrion myrrh
turgidly. Find a chirg rainbow

in this. Flooding out of my mind
all cark and will, as from a kiln
its radiation, and what thing
i hold i know not. Indigo

birds sunk only by indigo
shot, total war and both of us
stuck in a world of stupid pain,
in a room with a basilisk.

V.

Wrung a solitary rainbow
out of my agonistic glass;
i shall shut up in a room myrrh
floats, allow softly shadows waltz

around blank walls of a dank kiln
in this ignorant trustful night.
It is a vivid blurry thing
i carry and mold in my mind.

Practicing today not to mind
all acrid trials of indigo
in sunlight waiting, allot myrrh
for this coming witch-watchful night.

Fathoms, if our faith wink nil, kiln
and shill of kiln, hazardous waltz
to a sand of gound srinding glass
hand in hand with wasp basilisk.