(no subject)

Opera (With Rats)

Her eyes can't be made out but they are sad
Her song says they are sad and open out
Their holes they open out the way holes do
To die in air and spend their sadness there

Profile reversed in headswing of the mad
Her mad song's tremble scrapes into a shout
A shout unwound to whisper and that too
Begins to tear and bury itself in air

Thus edges' agents always mine the middle
And life's a losing, lost, and lusting little
Pulled out of parts at last, some arclit spittle
Failed fireworks at where it made its where

Or so the moustached man would have you know
Whose hands rub, glad but frightened for the show
And wave the woman where she's next to go

The story's that the lady and the man
In fleeing from religion to Japan
Fell--through--into--a ring--a bad man's plan

Or something. Pricey lights spread near-black green
Up satin black dress, zigzag over leather
While tugs on paper pepper nasty weather
Onto the two who must not stay together

While, understage, a king rat and a queen
Act out an all-dark drama of their own
She under sniffs and turns with her above
But finds her him at once who's always by

Comes, as his overstudy leaves the scene
Whisks whiskers with her once and sits his throne
Awaits black pink productions from his love
Knows nostrils end a face, don't start a sky