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Omens Revisited
This hideous summer wanes
As dolls' houses reverberate with sin and ecstasy,
Little children drink cough mixture like wine
And the Crucifix snaps on the communion table.
Where are the perilous eyes
Lost from the cradle of night
And smothered in stars?
Will the Pale Criminal remember them in a riot of body
Or the languid panther deny them entrance?
Ophelia is floating downstream
(Tripped out once too often on speed and acid)
While Hamlet shoots up heroin in the attic.
The ghost of Polonius intertwines his fingers
In the aortas of infants,
It's time for orgasmic violence
And the death at last of happiness.
poem
by
John Thorkild Ellison
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