banquet at the end of time


The banquet at the end of time,
the invitation read –
the living & the dead
to celebrate.  This pantomime

of solemn feasting they perform
beneath cavernous timbers
(burnt resinous embers)
foreshadows that preternatural storm

of joy, tasting our expectation –
when Eli’s empty chair
so hopeful (floating there)
is overflowing with affection

once again.  As we well know,
observes bright Magdalen –
beseeching, in the garden,
gardener (raw moon of woe).

& what it all may mean for Hobo
Hank, lazing out
his salvation-boat
conundrum (Solipsism, ho!)...

Can it be can-do canoe?
If anyone thinks they
know anything (See
St. Paul!) they’re in Pig’s Eye

sez he.  My inconsequence
is like a Pushkin move;
chess is like love,
government... clear as Providence.


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