Escape

I want to dive downwards into the sky
Reflected in the emptiness
I hold in my hand:
Moody, brooding, laced with branches
That fracture the ribbony nullitude.
To escape if only for moments this madness,
Self-inflicted, that harrows the masses,
That gnaws at the decency of our people,
Fouling it with pruny proprieties
Last embraced in the nineteenth century.
Like a tipsy robin, I wish to plunge
Through this glass, to dart and shadow-fly
Like Nabokov's metaphysical bird
Into luminous, lyrical yonders.
There, my monochrome soul may thrive
In a dearth of disruption; amidst fictional lushness
I'll chirp, I'll revive, find a peaceable flock
Whose songs cense the air with eloquent psalms.