Constantly risking absurdity<br />and death<br />whenever he performs<br />above the heads <br />of his audience<br />the poet like an acrobat<br />climbs on rime<br />to a high wire of his own making<br />and balancing on eyebeams<br />above a sea of faces<br />paces his way<br />to the other side of day<br />performing entrechats<br />and sleight-of-foot tricks<br />and other high theatrics<br />and all without mistaking<br />any thing<br />for what it may not be<br />For he's the super realist<br />who must perforce perceive <br />taut truth<br />before the taking of each stance or step<br />in his supposed advance<br />toward that still higher perch<br />where Beauty stands and waits<br />with gravity<br />to start her death-defying leap<br />And he <br />a little charleychaplin man<br />who may or may not catch <br />her fair eternal form<br />spreadeagled in the empty air<br />of existence