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Poem by Gelett Burgess


Twine then the rays  
 Round her soft Theban tissues.  
All will be as She says,  
 When the dead Past reissues.  
Matters not what nor where,          
 Hark, to the moon's dim cluster!  
How was her heavy hair  
 Lithe as a feather-duster!  
Matters not when nor whence;  
Sound make the song, not sense,  
 Thus I inhibit!

Gelett Burgess

Gelett Burgess's other poems:
  1. The Floorless Room
  2. On Digital Extremities
  3. The Lazy Roof
  4. I'd Rather Have Habits Than Clothes
  5. Abstrosophy

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