Can’t revelation be regaled to revel
At night, at dusk and at bark of noon?
And will the door of night be a willing
Supplicant to care, to limb and rust?
Will tar cancel out feathers of yester
Day, day after, and this fluff of now?
Door of night is content with
Ringing the dust-bell of a
Skylark and betting on the
Five lashes that patience affords.
Sunlit troubadours speak half-truths, tell quarter-tales, rhyme none, knock On the door of night.
islands of deceit obscure logic,
the cleric rebounds from bile to
bile, and pronounces, pounces; it
behoves him now to come naked in
front of the door of night and cry.