Age of Aquarius
A POEM
1
(Bitter are the blossoms
Conceived in time’ last spasm)
Myth flames black in silken wind,
Words shimmer on the tongue;
Bleak witchcraft poisons all the wells
And sickly bells are rung
2
Small is the shroud
Of the child who laughed in roselight
Fawning the leprous harlot sells
Mirages
Fevers
Taints and spells;
The imp who bloodies all the skies
Plucks out the drunken prophet’s eyes
The child born of music dies
3
Deathdevils dance to the piping of fools
While warlocks seize the children
dreamed in heaven
Sere grey suns now come to birth
To mock the shriveled ghost of earth:
Among the desolated flowers
Infants chant the ruined hours
Within the circle Satan cowers
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The soaring birds of freedom
Fall to the earth in yellow streams of fire,
Igniting…
For him, tomorrow is another world.
But still he’d like to bring a god to…
Williams knew how bored, self-centered, and self-indulgent the rich can be, and how desperately confused, vulnerable, and self-lacerating the poor often are.