I.OF VIRTUAL GASLIGHT
Cool gaslight flares discreetly,
Rousing tints on Gothic glass.
In unmolested slumber rest
The monstrous spires aloft;
Through autumn evening's laggard mist,
Canzonas thrust their startling staves;
Mad music rages 'round the nave arcades,
Till weary echoes seep through Royal Portals...
Lost souls line the weed-choked gutters,
Grunting sagely through frail globes of spittle...
Shadow pipe-dreams, phantoms, when official night
Illumes the Monster-City's desolation...
Muzzled cretins foul the flooded roadways...
Puddles shiver, ordure drowning star-points.
Withered blossoms perish on the curtain
Of the Kalpa falling on our dearest night.
II. OF DEAD CITIES
Mad Mahler melody, intense Adagio,
Swirls through the pale thin mists of my own Bruges-la-Morte,
Majestic moonlit realm where buttress forests freeze
Like coalescing slag from night’s unplumbed abysses,
Till congenial visions pall and yield their plunder
To the dismal day’s ennui.
Perfervid pilgrimage within a scholar’s steel-barred study:
Dead Viollet-le-Duc's grand elevations scanned
In moldering fat tomes, long-orphaned prints, frail photos
That enmaze the fevered mind, till carillons announce:
Go, gather shadows fleet and summon silence pure!
Soon darling demons throng the halls of nascent twilight;
Fleet, frail phantoms reel athwart the azure’s fading vault,
Now dimmed down almost to a phosphorescent demimonde—
Come forth, full-fledged for flight, Astarte Syriaca!
Queen of Gothic Night, proclaim: no life without the dream!
III. OF MENACE AND MAGIC
Squirming, panting, painterly hot-orange
Of our day’s-end star—
Above sleek chariots
Whose contrails weave tight patterns of slate-gray
And wispy white in hypnotizing skies
Now leaking a proleptic lead—
Repristinating marbled stone befouled by carrion,
Leeching mortal salts into the murals’ dimming luster
Till vastation looms, infecting stricken souls
With cryptic plague-borne lesions
That rip up and rape frail flesh
Until the carnal demon throbs with foulness
Rendered with a reverend regard for clot and contour,
As decay swift slithers from white bone
And the artist of black silence crafts a halo
From that final palette-patch
Heaped high with gouts of amber-gold…
But twilight spreads, invincible, through worlds
Where hustlers swarm; in motley,
Louche assassins lurch from doorways,
Stride like prating pirates
From the heaving cardboard mansions,
Throb to eerie rhythms
Spawned in sadique side-shows.
Garish store-fronts bray and brag,
Pimps pistol-whip recalcitrance in working-girls,
And rancid rat-face shunts the swag,
Arrays the fleshly folderol, fatidic firearms,
Wondrously emollient potions
Birthing bliss that glimmers and seduces
Through the florid neon's Monster-Concert…
And when it seems one might explode—
Descends cool veiling mist,
A moody prelude pirouetting on the ghostly ivory,
Symphonic conflagrations melting midnight,
The prismatic fountains raining clear refreshment,
Lunar carousels, kaleidoscopes on holiday—
Fatidic revelations teased from sempiternal dragons...
All these wondrous things, and so much more.
IV. OF THE CHTHONIC DARK
The forced march down black hours to three A.M.,
Past puffing, heaving piles of refuse
Barricading back-streets, blunting frosted winds;
Down hell-holes consecrate to Ashtoroth they pour
Until the coiled and creeping tunnels
Spew the fresh consignment midmost of the maze
Where leering ghouls already batten on the finger-food
Which flecks the wilderness of prison-bars.
A monstrous, manic organ wails,
Beyond baroque, exceeding dark excess,
Till prowling passage-work ascends from whispers
Through the wail of writhing modulations
Roaring, raging, savaging,
A predator upon the verge,
Eruption’s temblor yearning for release.
Then back downtown,
Where, noting well the ragged, glinting edges
Of the brandished menace,
I deploy my stained-glass piece,
A pilgrim changing places
With his murderer.
V. OF MADISON SQUARE
At evenfall, the dulcet rain, which saddens poets,
Darts swift passage-work on viscous puddles.
Fogs survey the square.
To sweet strains of Ravel's Pavanne,
An ardent, melancholy woman
(Eyes of violet star the gloaming)
Slips, a fragile ghost, behind
St. Sava's lofty apse, to dream
Of Romance in a silver key.