The Masque of Anarchy - by
As I lay asleep in Italy
There came a voice from over the Sea
And with great power it forth led me
To walk in the visions of Poesy.
As I lay asleep in Italy
There came a voice from over the Sea
And with great power it forth led me
To walk in the visions of Poesy.
Here, under the awning of cotton,
/ Tomatoes are heaped in a flare
/ Of glossy red beauty, and rotten
/ Sick-sweet smells of fruit fill…
As, William, you are here today with me,
/ will you buy a burger from that stall, while
/ dodging teeming trails of tourists?…
And the sky wet as a loose tarpaulin.
/ I’m walking but not home.
/
/ I’m taking the air. It tastes
/ sweet, like rust.
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