To The Anti-Genie
---- Big Frank Dickinson
Take this wish for what I want;
The flaunting swish of absence,
The empty hand that weighs me down.
Take it back, Ant-Genie, and put it in that
Magic Lamp of yours; then give it substance
In the settled fate of someone else,
Who will be sated through your gift of my lack,
Recycled into that which lives not in vain hopes
Take this wish for what I want;
The flaunting swish of absence,
The empty hand that weighs me down.
Take it back, Ant-Genie, and put it in that
Magic Lamp of yours; then give it substance
In the settled fate of someone else,
Who will be sated through your gift of my lack,
Recycled into that which lives not in vain hopes
But in the contained memory of sweet desire met.
Now as incomplete as a nagging chorus without a song.
Give me silence without the murmuring crowd,
A tranquil plain with a visible horizon,
Whose edge I can approach, filling my eyes,
Feeling its curve and lying down upon it
Have that line, distant as it now appears,
Now as incomplete as a nagging chorus without a song.
Give me silence without the murmuring crowd,
A tranquil plain with a visible horizon,
Whose edge I can approach, filling my eyes,
Feeling its curve and lying down upon it
Have that line, distant as it now appears,
Be mine.
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