History Lesson
"The
Monster is Dead", Doug Lazarus, 1978
Basic
Mythology
They were angry, they plotted, not resting day
Or night, all the gods disaffected by decrees
Of justice and mercy, by all concepts of love.
Who
the hell cares about your project to clear
Up these mysteries and to live for eternity?
They said this in committee. Meaning can
Be dashed, by sneering. All things
Carry on within the shadow of logical rebuke.
Ah,
the bloated witch, the whore of Babylon,
Had many servants. She who fashions all
Things had the outline man, the teachable
Thug, right at her side. Irresisatble shapes
Of all nightmare, weapons she gave freely--
She was bearing monster serpents sharp
Of tooth, not sparing the fangs with poison.
Ferocious dragons she clothed with scales;
She made a belt of diamonds out of stars . . .
There
was nothing she couldn’t do. Just
Close your eyes and imagine it! She crowned
The orphan children with fear-inspiring glory,
Made them . . . baby gods. God were all
Anyone knew, when people were a minority.
Ah,
they swore in the caterwauling influence
Of this, the first people under sway of Mother
Huber in the Babylonian Epic. She made
Them huddle in apartments, in a future they
Never imagined, with
ear piercing sirens outside.
Nightly
I can make sense of this transparent
Background story. It is such blood and mayhem
Out in the suburbs still, you forget what is the
Good side, you only know it is your ancestry.
You’ve
seen too much of a smiling indifference.
She
set up the viper, the dragon, and the camel.
The grea lion, the mad dog, the scorpion man,
The mosquitoes you slap, the diving demons,
All sex crazed creatures, the prolific insects.
The dragonfly, with his colors in the wind,
Who is now airborne, the invisible pilot
In the hideous shape of . . . helicopters. Ah,
The bison with lowered horns, your neighbor,
Who harbors a deep grudge. Everyone
Unafraid of battle, thinking of nothing else in
Fact--this has it’s source, these are telescopic
Images, this is ancient lore . . . the whole
Rotten
story of guilt and corruption is like
Stamped into your worst fears.
Powerful
Are the decrees, you cannot resist them,
Any more than a telephone ringing. The
World slips into oblivion, I said, all the
Mothers are killing their sons, they are
worshipping nature.
Now
the birds are watchers, formerly dinosaurs.
We shall die and not understand a word of it.
The street has made wide passage, I see,
For the raging fire trucks. The gods who ruled
The forgotten past have come back, like
Tired executives. The paper dragon kite is
In the trees, when I look up to skies unleased.
The furnace in the basement will explode,
Before
I save the boxes I have stored there.
The devil limping, and he is disguised, in
A last charade, wandering about the sudden
Country Club, with mud cleats in his shoes!
I
keep seeing the scenario, but I can’t find
The plug to unplug it. Why should the departed
Spirits return, taking infinite punishment?
I think it’s because we fail to place the blame,
And make no choices good for a lifetime.
Tiamat
was her virgin name, she wanted to
Fashion all things out of light-filled water.
But see the dark knights at her side full of
Bravado, he’s got nothing on his mind, but
He’s always seeking the mother behind the
Daughter. It’s repeating, it doesn’t even
exist!
Here they come through the swinging door
In the old saloon, like mythological avengers!
What a pair. They procreate, until doomsday.
I
guess I sat up with this, walked the streets
Before I got the courage. Then, in my chair,
Relaxing, I said to the plain-faced girl at my side,
Don’t worry, it’s only history again, another
Desperate bad filming, it’s only the flimsy old
Wars of creation, in a dream-sodden reenactment,
Sort of. It’s the basic mythology we’ll
ignore,
While keeping the night clear and
unexplainable.
Edward
Williams c 2001
Rochester, New York
