Refurbishing The Stately Pleasure Dome

In my imaginary country stoned
port authorities deport individuals
for bad taste: the absurdity
of airbrushed garments
or plaid and argyle…

Semper fi legal leniency toward serial killers
–such immense effort, the extreme exertions of the will
that conceals so many aberrant secrets
beneath a calm (frequently) charming demeanor.
A misunderstood lot that should be studied
while permanently imprisoned in psychiatric care
for those who clinically define inhuman
depravity never rehabilitated.

Hard drinks from the highlands on the half
hour–in pursuit of genuine madness.

Normalcy shunned–those who live as pariahs
embraced the way modernity celebrates mediocrity
…letting the clean provincial verge grow wild
and unkempt as John Milton’s long locks.

Unquestioned unions for all consenting adults
no matter their orgiastic preferences–
simple libidinous urges addressed as biology
so begone all proselytizing judgmental masses
among those whose faith is specious
and petulantly childish…

Insane scribbles made by barely sentient
drunks turned into policy and summarily amended
for ancient chemicals strange and shaman.

At dawn my Greek isle ideal
fades into surreal masculine slumber
lulled until the evening’s magical resurrection.

Poet’s Note –
this particular poem is at best an inventive, contemporary response to Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s, “Kubla Khan,” or “A Vision in A Dream,” and at worst, merely a pretentious allusion to a much greater work of art.

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i'm a 42 year old writer and have spent the last two decades sifting through books in a variety of libraries all across the southern United States while writing poems, stories and novels and am only now standing at that precipice where i'm willing to share my work with the world. my single greatest fear with regard to writing is that what i've penned would waste someone's precious time.
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