stuck as a feather to the window grille
you helpless traveler on a windless tropic
a white cloud alone in an endless sky
separated from the flock at a time of play

laugh and laugh ancient mariner
desolation is not of this earth alone

you will become a ghost so it transpires
is there a one you wanted to know
when youd read of love but felt much more

who speaks to you of brazen fiends
who tells you theres no gold on mars
you think your love will become
a bloody white rag in a time of war

now where you neatly keep your folded clothes
an eyeless moth lives beneath the heap
when you undress it catches a smell
of that body which from a touch you keep

but you don’t want to suffer a glance
you prick out its eyes with an iron pin
the blind moth now wonders hard/what it is it hasn’t seen

you should wear gladioli in your hair
and grip the sword with both hands
if caesar wants you to fight to be free
say with pride/say ‘death to me’

of course youll have sand in your hands
youve traveled thirsty youve been to the sea
at your feet pebbles/but you only stood on the shore