FASTNACHT Fractal BOGEYS . . . (III.9.2009)
I have in mind here the wonderful Swiss mountain village
variety of Fastnacht, or Carnival.
On the road in the American Northwest.
FASTNACHT—The Night of
Drumming out the bad spirits of mean-man winter,
Screeching at them with a horror of horns and pipes,
Marching down cobblestone streets and under bridges,
Where monstrous demons tend to congregate.
This is the music of the anti-divine,
Anarchy's orgy against an excess of sanitas,
Recompense for the far-too-much of not enough.
Where all is fire, all is noise, where all is chaos,
When Kronos readies to castrate the Patriarch.
The Pope belches and strokes the buttocks
Of his favorite Swiss guard: "Let the wretches
Have their night of fun." But the children know better.
Faces painted for a holy war, they take to the streets.
This is the night that shall balance all the rest.
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Eagle Cap Wilderness