Break down the elements, split them
Then shatter all solidity’s illusions,
Beyond the viscous mind, still feeling hard
By vanity’s gas upholstered.
And then, for happiness’s definition,
Shut the door;
Relax, and don’t be squeamish;
For every grit of teeth, a pull of trigger,
A sear, a cloud . . .
Then, if the bacillus, the charge
Breaks through even your filter-screen,
Thin paper barrier that defines
Your victims and yourselves . . .
And you, amoebae, become specimens
Now that your brainchild ogres
Have outstepped the frames of will;
Oh super-brains! Limp, flapping squids;
Now that you’ve burst your cranial canisters,
Now that you’ve blundered on the combination
To open up the vault
Wherein you case your muffled
to soothing, doped oblivion;
Did you first conquer all remorse, all fear,
Destroy all that might have the power to save?
And will you now be laid low, by yourselves,
Even denied all retribution’s flames,
All instantaneous dignity?
Oh ones still solid, cynicism’s crust
Thickens and stifles, yet absorbs,
Driving life’s final spark to desperation;
No scope to flash
Without full-voiding all outside itself.
Oh loosen now your halters,
Clean growth, no fission-cancers,
Live now; be novae