''From The Id'' - A poem by John Eric Gulliksen

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Copyright by John Eric Gulliksen
All rights reserved

a poem by John Eric Gulliksen

Walked into unreal this morning
hot hot damp sweating cold
molded from brass and ebony
etchings in black and gold


Rode on a ribbon this morning
slide slide over
stinger with honey dripping down on
curtains of black and brown

soft sand

Heard nonsense mouthings this morning
Laugh! Laugh! Amity's dead!
Fell crashing small shiny pieces in
welters of black and red

soft soft sand

Felt warm caresses this morning
touch touch- but stay unseen
creep beneath the window ledges to
bowers of black and green

soft soft sand so sweet

Say YOU, world, from sky this evening
BURN BURN make darkness bright
Sacrificing sons and daughters
Thy mirrors of black and white