Dark Continent

.

The journey in darkness has a trivial jargon

For the cans of black coffee and ears like sprigs

Of an intelligent listening flower

This agitation is a kind of heavy wood

That you could hold a candle to

And never alter its unendurableness

There is nothing to do about voyaging

Fears except to jerk their brilliance

Out ahead of you like a rushlight like this

But what is illumined in the jungle large

Is a girl in narrow white sashes

Seated in your room at your writing desk

Moa the Dancer: Egon Schiele, 1911