Canto III: Human Animals
2019, Olan L. Smith
Helios by day, and some nights Luna guides my path.
I found my way from dark rows of maize where Luna and the owl
Are my guides to the world of people? People in board huts,
In tall rectangle caves, layer on top of layers, with glowing electric
Candles light the innards of successive cells of crammed
Souls afraid of the dark, and human animals haunting
Streets, and passageways. The prostitute is kinder than humans
That courses the arteries of a surreal realm. Here pitiful souls walk
To themselves, or in groups, letting no one in except themselves.
Friends, in the darkness, shout and shriek sounds that mimic the alley
Cat's wail. None know their neighbor! Souls weeping bitter sorrow,
Spirit of liquid proportions; they make humans brave enough to mingle.
Alas, many couplings are in stupor, vomit covers taxi floorboards,
And steep fines ensue for the cleanup, the perpetrator won't
Remember the disgust, neither will he recognize his alcoholic self
In the morning mirror. The man of corn pities the plight of so many
Frighten people, afraid to know anyone, and afraid to be alone.
By the dawn of Sol, the man returns to his field. He thinks, "This
Is what I come back too? Surely, I have arrived in a twisted
Dimension of almost, where the rulers are Tricky Dick wannabes;
But not as clever. Bring fire to the corn that can't be harvested."