Sunday, December 1, 2024

Wild Angel Of Fate

Wild Angel Of Fate
© Surazeus
2024 12 01

I should not barter wisdom with the dead 
but I want to know the right road to take 
to escape slaving for my daily bread, 
to wrestle with fear for one slice of cake, 
or then I shall walk down the empty road 
to meditate with the hypnotic toad. 

Reluctant angel of the fallen state 
misleads my journey to the Promised Land 
by selling tickets to the Pearly Gate 
which I cannot open with fleshy hand, 
so I build log cabin on the river shore 
and hang holly wreath on red-painted door. 

Extending arms to embrace empty sky, 
I soar into bright clouds on devil wings 
to find palace of God and ask him why 
Death translates pain to pleasure when she sings, 
but he hurls me wingless back down to Earth 
where I calculate what made things are worth. 

Dressed in my dapper suit at gleam of dawn, 
I ride the trolley up the hill to work 
where I pretend I am not obedient pawn 
programmed to patrol streets where angels lurk, 
all to maintain rules by order of law 
where ravens on taut telephone lines caw. 

When I corner the thief by the locked door, 
who steals stale bread for his children to eat, 
he mocks the world order of bank and store 
that exploits the farmer destroyed by sleet, 
for gangsters rule each level of the state, 
enforcing power to control our fate. 

Rich gangsters in state offices of power 
are just as ruthless as thugs in the street, 
for each one asserts right to tax the flower 
by using threat of suffering to defeat 
rival gangs controlling brief lives of men 
in harsh money war that no one can win. 

Pretending I got lost in alleyways, 
I let the desperate bread-winner escape, 
but, as I wander crowded city maze, 
begin to wonder who rules the mindscape, 
and who creates things with their humble hands, 
the carpenter, or the king with demands. 

Sticking to my job for the city bank, 
I investigate status of cash loans, 
eager to climb the bureaucratic rank 
by wearing shaman mask and clacking bones, 
so with power I can improve the state 
by gambling with the wild angel of fate. 


1 comment:

  1. Orpheus finds work at the city bank of San Francisco in 1884 as a loan assessment officer who aspires to run for mayor to improve the lives of everyday working men.

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