In blood’s red boil the fiery tempers rising,
The sanguine hunger bursting till encompassed
Presence felt; in misty anger’s courting
The threads of life are rapidly unpursed.
Good-natured Fates in life and love’s desire
Enmeshed in Time, each human puppet strung,
Controllèd moves, to joy and art inspired,
Still, th’undying Furies’ traps are sprung.
Things that are, were previously rewoven
From thoughts and magic, flight and fancy free,
Each whim, each bead of history stolen.
Each life, each line, the Furies doth prepare,
Where revealed light, and things that—perhaps?—be,
Will fall to fate, and gods’ eternal care.
surrealities 