Transient Space Of Why

Transient Space Of Why
© Surazeus
2022 12 15

Fidelity to surface of the world 
leaves spectral residue from faceless mask 
through spirit photography of lost souls 
who float with sharp eyes in the maze of myths 
where we all find each other stereotyped 
as stock characters forgotten by time. 

Still climbing stairs above museum hall, 
we tell each other stories of our sorrow 
to stand on parapet of somewhere else, 
regretting every bridge we fail to cross 
on journey through the hall of nameless ghosts 
who linger in the transient space of why. 

Historical scale of our untold tales, 
redolent with smell of car engine oil, 
expands outside parameters of faith 
so ballads crooned by faceless seers of love 
define new global religion we share 
as we ride the train in silent despair. 

The spectral settings where we live our hopes 
require tables in port city hotels 
as spiritual haunts where our shadows wait 
for someone to call on the telephone 
as mist shrouds midnight streets with golden glow 
though fruit trees sprout inside my global skull. 

Clever mimicry of the old suitcase, 
containing all the dreams that never sell, 
reveals new code for dead souls to transform 
from apple seeds to angels without wings 
who keep photos in pockets of their coats 
while riding trains across the prairie grass. 

Interior specter of each photo lost 
tries to associate its long-forgotten name 
with phone number in the delicate book 
smeared by winter rain of Chicago nights 
when kings assassinate beloved fools 
who claim their sacred right to vote for Death. 

Contingent on achievement of success 
defined by stark attention of the blind, 
my heart sprouts wings I steal from Icarus 
to leap beyond the endless maze of myth 
so I can lounge at Pegasus Cafe 
and watch ships glide on the river all day. 

Fidelity to anguish of the heart 
contrives new modes of psychic artistry 
so I can calculate how concepts change 
in slowly shifting tides of social faith 
when I sail through storm to Byzantium 
where Ishtar maps our multiverse of truth.