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Flow fast unconscious
Flow fast
Sparkle up all the new truths possible
Pour out the wisdom of the ages
Sweet melodious fluteful tunes
For the invisible audience.
Rush it out!
I am in a rush
To run to my visible audience
And show them my product:
Paintings from the mind
The soul's portrait of G-d
Gems from the celestial sphere.
Oh old unconscious
Your drama
Brings me into that drama:
Soft touches
Playing inside the flesh
Where melting stops the show
And where the sun and moon
Are on friendly terms
And I could care less
For What it
And what will be
For my darling whispers
in my ear
And her breath tickles.
And her soul rests.

The awakening is like a sharplight of sunlight
Like a burning pain to urinate
Water becoming ice
Heaven becoming hell
The body quieted between
Two storms
Suddenly feels the thunderous
What was soft quiet moonlight
Is now a sideswipe of a blinding
Oh old unconscious
Why the sudden debilitating view
Of sneezefuls of restless bacteria?

How was I plunged up
And plunged down so quickly
Founded and then lost
At the same time
Inside and outside
And now no more
Or rather holding together
Torn parts of a painting.
I demand a reward
Such tripping
In the sunlight
Demands pennies
Thrown on the grass
For later collection
Where is the applause?
The tangible royalties?
How can beauty exist
Without the mention of my name?
Truth so nicely formed
Can't sit hidden away
In a draw
Shouldn't the hero
Bring back the tidings?

In solitude he invented
And in assemblage
They lit the fuse.

Hello there
Hello there
I would like to know who I am
Broadcasting to
Who is hearing the message
Or are we just technicians
Speaking to technicians?

Hello soul
Do you hear me?
Can you relate
The message to the others?

Erase all previous
I have received my
Identity card
From down here
So that in the meantime
I am admitted entrance.

What shall he be
All the negative

Hello wandering minstrel.

Irwin R. Shaw - 1981