For Stupid, Sour Cupid

Rocket toothpaste on our lips and Stupid, Sour Cupid scratches at the window
Guns explode within the closet and we rush for the sea side
Where the liquid foundations are chemical floorboards
Ready to melt beneath our grasping, gasping forms
Here we lie in merit and honour- lost in what is seemly delight
Here behind lies of dead ancestors and the costumes of yesterdays flash
Do you believe? are you a believer in the dreamers and cloud counters?
Do you walk the sodden carpets to where the door stands ajar?
Allowing darkness to be the metaphor for Hephaestus' extinguished flames
Things here are tight and things here are stretched
Like a root bound elm tree forcing its way through rock and pavement
We are the lovers and the swearers and the stained cigarette smoke
Moaning and moping through streets unthought of
Where great dead men bow down to the poets and the naked soldiers
Hairy chests are combed by the winds from arrows
And we all feel alive as a melody is plucked from the harp of Ovid's ghost
We are here and we are the symbolic
We are the dawn that becomes day- being forced to grab the rock
Like the root, like the wind that grabs the grass
Can you hear the moan of the tall reeds? Its the noise you hear in sleep
And the celestial winter sky is merely an ants nest on fire
With smoke smirking down towards us engulfing us, hiding us
And the forrest of our bright future becomes a shuddering nest for the crows
The laughing bird that holds their note with wine and knowledge
Do you know who you are, where you are, which culture you digest?
The dimension of intelligence will become a platform for the glitter and gold
And I will lie in your arms- breathing frantically into the darkness
Trying with the might of a thousand desert indians to ignite a fire
To awaken Hephaestus, he has been betrayed, Betrayed!
And the children wave to the low flying aeroplanes
Flying to the cities of poverty or escaping to the islands of the scientist
Cupid's sour face still scratches at the window, he has thrown his bow and arrow to the ground
scattered there they sit
In last years elm leaves they sit, the masculine error
Should we yell out? yell for the formation of mountains!
Yell for new oceans to rise from the earth!
Yell for clouds to quest for human quarry!
Oh, this Rocket toothpaste and the reflection of liquid floorboards
They pull me under, drag me down, and I am away
I am the revelation, the revolution, I know everything and nothing for myself, for you
I walk on the emptiness and swim within the shuddering thunder
Today is the flashback, the gunshot, the monster from the beginning of the world, to beneath my bed
Here is who we are- I am sure of it- Here is the cause
Can you feel my hands feel the shape of your face?
Can you feel the curtains rise and fall?
Can you feel Cupid's bony finger trace your thighs and legs?
This road is a eulogy for my brothers
This path is a trodden memory for my friends
I walk them to ignite the spark to start an industry
The industry of words- cover to cover
From shore to shore- drenched in froth- drenched in empty wetness
I ignite it for you! for Hephaestus and his lonely empty glass
and cupid, whose stupid sour face is still at my window
In this, the longest night he has ever known