POLYPHEMUS

  

Throughout this fabled country of the free,

And dominating every living room,

There squats a Cyclops sentry guard to whom

All dwellers in each cavern must concede

A backward posture, so that his eyebeam

May cast upon the darkened wall shadows,

Which take the shapes of things they cannot know--

And this is how they realize their dreams.

 

But woe unto the man who sues for grace

In meditation, or who longs to hold

Communion with a living human face!

He winces, when upon the cave’s damp mold

They worship an electrical device,

And in that trance envision Paradise.