Cathedral Of The Clown

Cathedral Of The Clown
© Surazeus
2023 11 27

The stone cathedral of the mad king stands 
grumpily proud among car factories 
where splintered cross of the telephone pole 
presents the mocking jester with wild grin 
as noble savior of the global empire 
that kills dissenters of the jeweled crown. 

In vegetating kingdom of the fish 
I reign as monarch of the silver eyes 
because I am the lizard who can grasp 
luxuriate egg of the blind dragon queen 
who lounges in cathedral of the clown 
while eating grapefruit red as human brains. 

As Child of Aphrodite with eight arms, 
I walk streets of Manhattan with the dead 
at blare of the trumpet Raphael plays 
to announce beginning of World War Three 
between the Tyrant and the Engineer 
while girls gather honey from rotten oaks. 

When Ghost of Pallas with the broken sword 
accosts proud Son of Lucifer at dawn 
over who wins election of the king, 
we watch with fascination of the poor 
battle between Midas and Melusine 
over who will steer the wrecked Ship of State. 

Whether Dido or Lady of Shallot 
has more just cause of love to be upset, 
the noble hero of world revolution 
wears mask of Hera in the grand parade 
that winds through Gotham City to the lake 
where she forges keys to expose the fake. 

Yet Father Time in black suit and red tie, 
bearing scythe he bought from Death for one dollar, 
explains to me that every group of humans 
is always lead by the man who plays god, 
who organizes their activities 
to maximize profit gained from their labor. 

The cow-horned death-head on the mantelpiece 
explains the secret of eternal life, 
but no one remembers just what it said 
while accepting we are stuck in our head, 
so I name myself with most unique sign 
that only fishermen can comprehend. 

Since faith is trying to do without faith 
I lead lost pilgrims to the Promised Land 
where we transform dark wilderness of pain 
into lush Garden of Zarathium 
where every human lives with equal rights 
while sharing what we create with our hands.