The Dreaming Prow

This is the place where lines are erased
The abodes of dancers are randomly spaced
Speakers sound sonnets and crackle in the wind
A youth's magic horn signals sloth's end

Androgynous lovers serve pilaf and scones
Nameless didacts tend the courtesy phones
Alternative slogans in exchange for a code
Directionless guides offer maps with one road

This is the place where books make sounds
Sensory substitutes for language abound
The Holy Wars play on a multiplex scrim
Battalions pirouette at the nudists' whim

We note every minute cultural emboss
Buttercups bloom along each isogloss
Each is a god and nation alone
Ghettoization turns bleep to drone

The shades of difference are the hues of our art
Curves of belief carefully teased apart
Flags are prayer mats when praying is craved
Psalms are sent, received, never saved

This is the place where science sings
Forecasts the mutability of things
Desires dance around tomorrow's Now
And children line the Dreaming Prow.

©1998 Evan Hause