(on drifting too close to the preacher)

 

He was no inhabitant of this world

Who hurried with such swiftness that the wind

Fluttered the rags around his lanky frame

Like tattered gonfalons...Who`s fierce eyes-

Caught fire long ago of some great vision-

Perpetually blazed...who uttered madnesses,

Words, wild words, no man could tolerate,

Full of crucifixions, dark, sad deaths

rebirths and desperate strivings for the light.

He`d hiss, with fierce whispers to the heart

Such things that, should ever action set them free

Would ruin the simple pleasure-scape of man

And leave this world a grim, volcanic waste.

Yet, many of those who listen are allured

To cast off from their comfortable nuclei

And dare the starry vastness...I myself

Had made myself immune to his fantastics

By raising up a baffle of my will

,
But still I drifted over with the rest

To where he spouted forth. And for the sake

Of a sleek, fine-fetlocked faun that was listening there

(Her and her big, brown, innocent, trusting eyes)

Edged closer to him..He`d just reached

Some particular absurdity

And I, nodding sagely, started to strike up

An amiable acqaintance  with my prey,

When he stopped immediately in front of me,

Drew a mirror from within his robe,

And telling me that I was very ill

Bid me behold..........................................

...........................Hell`s cacophonous Bells!

This faun, I thought was nuzzling my neck?

........................She had me by the throat!