Reynolds & Midway XXXIX.

Many & sundry londes Reynolds & I

wd ode had we the wherewithal to gang

our bottoms shipboard o'er the winedark sea

like Herman & George Gordon & Percy B

wha shld've left that barc alone & lubberd

landward longer. We'd've seed us Italy

leastways, that limblike land of leg & boot

the toe of wich has at poor Sicily—

til God decrees that time is up & rolls

the final wave upon the final shore

(Be it L.A. or elder HelsingØr

where Hamlet brooded & Ophelia dunkd

her lovely locks for love) —thereat to ogle

Michaelangelo's glorious Sistine Chapel

& his amazing & astonishing David;

also to wend in gondolas in Venice

wherein we'd take our try at a 10^th rate Verdi,

or who ? Rossini whose quick & famous fiddles

fits in my mind metropolis: vasty cities

of high & skinny buildings varicolord

red & pinkish yellowy narrow shruggd,

shrugging to fit as in Amsterdam or any

tightly clusterd urban centre where

we meaning Reynolds & me might hie us

for we have seen in dreams the sparkling hives

that in nocturnal splendor spangle night

like galaxies, engendering piety,

like necklaces of opals, pearls, rubies,

garnets, spilling, flung wild & wide,

but in most terrible & holy order,

in deepest cold, hostile, cruel cohesion

& balance, relentless eternal life that feeds

upon life, merciless killing, natural death

over & over, death from life, life from death,

but 1 consciousness—GOD—

& only 0ne, diffused among quintillions,

One to Whom all memories remain,

to Whom all grief remains, all love & loss

Is His is Hers to suffer & endure

for all the never ending evers ever

in deeply cold & brutal voids of space

& ancient moldering yawning gaps of time

time to remember, time to know & feel,

in blackest sorrow & in growing grief

that blossoms there among the love & light

that comes & comes again, the hope & faith,

the prayer & sacred music, humming hymns

of children chanting reverent orisons

& bowing humbly in contrite petition

faces to earth, eyes closed to pray to One

Prime Mover & Maker of all that move,

Fountain of Love w/o wich none wld love,

not even Christ, the Paradigm & Son

Who wanderd 40 days in wildernesse

& bested Midway's 0ne by 39

4.14.14