My Centuries

by Rudi Matic

Trakl perceived it.  The visages, the healers,
innumerable vistas, arms, legs, balm.
"I'll try to induce His Excellency to appear.  What shall we say?
Did you say something?"
                                               I incline
To vertigo, myself.  And you, Mabuse
                                                       -- did you say something?
 

The light crinkles over the rocks; the sails
Cascading over skyscrapers.  Kolyma, Nagasaki, Heaven, Earth:
We look about, transfigured, though nothing has changed.
Touch wood, and flounder in gravity and blood.
 

These Gesthemenic cities, groin girt high,
Horns, claws, and sackcloth.  Now we start again;
 
New types press at the zeniths.  Ah -- my centuries!