and then a poem that is for mahmud darlish called the dream of narcissus. the dream of narcissus, that there would be a silence loud as time. the dream of the writer that there could be a silence loud as time, the dream of time that rest might come, the dream of rest, that unrest might arise. the dream of the palm, the pilgrims would enter the village. the dream of the village, that they depart with their palms and the house dreaming of his leveling and the exile as well, the dream of night that the day would be purified, the dream of day that the dark would be lifted, and the dream of the dream but who is to speak of this? i don't think this needs to be explained, it's called mad man with broom. the realist crows return at earliest morning. and the madman with broom, madman in his night shirt with a broom, he, too, returns. he thinks to roust the crows from the mulberry boughs by jabing and swirling his broom, by crazily twirling his broom in the wet summer air and hurling curses skyward beyond the boughs and the crows toward the fading gods beyond the fad