Getting Out of Hell - after Sappho & Diane Di Prima & Arlen Riley Wilson & C.S. Lewis

Good luck with that, because everything in this hell
is twilight & everything you do is inside it, twilight
spreads too far for the eye, for to walk for 10,000
years and find the most devious filth you can imagine,
Napoleon, pacing up and down grimly in his mansion,
you, in your imaginary house saying "no, it isn't work", you know
that your leisure is work, when you are letting go you're working
when you're feeling as free
as can be
you're a boss
that's what we all know, our common
knowledge undertakes to stay
in twilight, wondering, waiting
for the bus, it is here, you can't get on.

It is work, this home
my sister's wedding
is work, going there
to you...


...this
all home
ransom heart
in this hell the trees
looking up
all, at them,,
is work

when you look up, are at her wedding, you are working
when you resist inside you are working harder, inside it,
every act of deviation so what
should I do, Concorde? Vespers,,  what we all know, the truth
we are bound by
                             when I
hold
when I can hold you
you can scream
out in the grasp of this hell of this death
rattle I no there nothing is hell mouth deviation is work
your songs have there in them clicking
just more &&           more shattered
into twilight & labour intensive
       satisfaction the truth is the stasis
       of your solitude
       & we fear this for forever
remotely

"have nothing".