Cafe On Sorrow Street
© Surazeus
2026 10 19

Melanie smiles at angel, not so real
as rubber tires on asphalt road of fate,
because butterflies teach her how to feel
through laughter of the need to calculate
time difference of faith-distorted concern,
backwards up-floating from the time-tossed stern.

Cast in the swirling sea of certitude
by sudden lurch outside her old world view,
Melanie programs fatal attitude
regarding how police design the True,
as if Fate always knows just what we need,
since ideal forms spring from conceptual seed.

While striding to cafe on Sorrow Street
with glass guitar and pistol on her leg,
Melanie sings in rhythm with the beat
because she finds white horse inside the egg
that sprouts swan wings of freakish bravery
to help her fight against fiscal slavery.

Still chanting spells of courage at twilight,
on stage at Woodstock in meadow of flames,
Melanie names brave ghosts who teach her flight
with secret code for winning psychic games
in battle against gang of global greed
who fool humble farmers with morbid screed.

Commissioned to record in coded spells
crimes of politicians who wear gold masks,
Melanie translates moral trick of bells
to expose bank where the basilisk basks
with grand conspiracy to rule the world
through revolution of the cosmic herald.

Shocked by fall of the tyrant with no face,
who slouches in glass house of global power,
Melanie paints visions that leave no trace
of math formulas smeared inside the tower
where she sleeps inside fractured vampire boat
because sad people decide not to vote.

Fooled by the propaganda slate of lies
depicting Minerva as evil witch,
farmers and factory workers become spies
to expose conspiracies of the rich
who legislate laws that enslave our souls
as wage-grifters stuck in hardworking roles.

While driving highway Auburn to Seattle,
through pine forests around Mountain of Truth,
I dream I am Helios herding cattle
till social change makes me messiah sleuth
when Melanie rides Pegasus at dawn
and sings about wild angels on the lawn.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2026/10/…

Orpheus films Melanie while she plays guitar on stage and sings to the hundred million ghosts of all the lost angels of America who search for the Promised Land.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism