My Wings Icarus Made

My Wings Icarus Made
© Surazeus
2023 07 16

Residual flow of nonchalant desire 
explains how city roads of sun-gold skies 
expand conceptual view of broken toys 
who hang around the library all day 
while Satan plays piano with contempt 
to prove Death erases us from the world. 

If gargoyle perched on tall cathedral spire 
reveals location of my treasure chest 
to all the people driving motor cars 
on asphalt roads through summer afternoons 
then I will hide my wings Icarus made 
behind grand pianos in concert halls. 

Orpheus wanders busy avenues 
past shopping malls and crowded theaters 
where superheroes wearing mask of Zeus 
battle fascist dragons with network eyes 
to save the common people from world war 
though he knows the way through the Underworld. 

Yet moon-black raven with red diamond eyes, 
perched on bust of Pallas above my door, 
brings plums and red mushrooms from the icebox 
for me to eat while I watch petals fall 
from wet black boughs that gleam like morning snow 
since everyone I know will soon be dead. 

Till Alastor sells me his leaky boat 
I will explore poppy fields of Elysium 
with my two best friends from our college days, 
Adonais and Lycidas, who sing 
sea shanties by flickering fire on the beach 
as we roast hot dogs beneath the blue moon. 

Orpheus hesitates at the glass door 
to marble foyer of the First State Bank 
where he keeps his lyre by the urinal 
displayed as concept of new modern art 
while hurricanes dance on the Silly Sea 
and movie stars drink beer in Albany. 

Economists and pundits analyze 
aggressive nature of the Modern Man 
who bears on his shoulders the heavy world 
while rolling boulder of wealth up the hill 
till value of the dollar tumbles down 
when Jack and Jill run away with the crown. 

While riding White Hart on the Brooklyn Bridge 
Apollo strums the lyre of noble pride 
to find many-footed Manhattan bound 
under glass pyramid of ancient faith 
where drunken dancers worship the God Wraith 
who billows from smoke stacks of factories.