Do not let joy in, do not let love.
Banish lust, and God, and doves.
Do not let angels touch your hair!
Silly rainbows— I don’t care.
No tarot cards. No Holy Ghost,
Prayers are futile, art is rote.
History is good and true.
And war, of course, and tax law too.
Excel sheets and hedge-fund rates—
Will usher through the Pearly Gates.
Society, I cherish so—
It’s all so noble; it’s all so droll.
But stare too long at the sun—
And what you worship, you become.
Stones churn and roll with each new tide,
Boys lift their legs on a bicycle ride!
A little martini at half past two—
A woman’s lips— succumb to you—
As a river passing through the night,
carries a bridge’s reflecting light,
On the blackest water— like dragon’s blood—
Lures me, enchanting— before the flood.
Sharks in the Garden 