Brent Fialka

apollo with gold-gleaming crown’d head proud above
those of men who plea storm crowd around stands
tall aloof as god not fiend if his sinewy fingers
sound summon weak spirits arise stand: declare
ourselves weaklings bound released by the wave of
his hand fear most his fiery-form grace a remedy
a bane to bend makes us clowns to fall down
exhausted from his games of god-man where
sickness mar feigned apollo abounds master
of muses send healing poetry-music which astound
weaves life’s fragile frabic then reigns discord to rent.



Letter to Brent
New Prince Takanawa Hotel, Shinagawa, Tokyo

1 September 1988