The Dead Follow Every Wind Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Logos of pride
Burning eyes of phallus poetry
The over man of Nietzsche
Caged in robust vanity
Scarborough of delicate sanity
We suffer like condemned tribes
The pall of Prometheus fire
All are punished in the true mirror
All are swarthy madmen

Along the shore a ray of sun
Wise hour deems blue asylum
Men of the seventh seal
Tombs of radiant jewels
She hands skeletons her potion
We dance like poised slaves
Numb in totem revelry
Circle around mountains of myth
No fountain of youth shall respite

Wine of Bacchus bubbles like death
The wind blows fierce with portent
Portals of fire summon the locust
Land of giants drunken on philosophy
Golden eyes narrow like serpents
Dance to the sound of draped sirens
Magic hours where time warps time
Leave these feasts of foreign temples
Prince and power of the air rides

Hide your gold in the children’s war
Hide your future in caves of incest
Worship the still steel phallus
Your wet womb reveals Egypt
Visitors fallen and very dark
Musky bed where aliens crouch
Ancient lions wilt the galaxy
Who are you sister of red
The dead follow every wind