The Berry Horn and the Raisin Snail

They crossed the ocean in a gale,
The Berry Horn and Raisin Snail,
++To a spit of sand and sea,
And left behind them three miles hence,
The thunderhead of impotence
++And dread anxiety.

The waves went up, the waves went down,
The surf blew sideways, white and brown;
++They thimbled in the squall,
With frisky whisky, beer and hock,
They slammed and slammed into the dock
++And scrambled up the wall.

And made a home within the dunes,
With rummy cards and salty tunes,
++Full far from double-dealing,
And sung their song and blew their horn,
Furry Oryx, hairy Faun,
++Hot buns and sweet Darjeeling.

Across the channel, horror broods,
The awful pantomime concludes
++Its dull abominations;
Before the world’s averted eyes,
The orange ogre moves its thighs
++In slow, spastic gyrations.

As crass cartoonish dead men drool
The fecal sputum of the Fool
++On black remembered hills;
The Horn and Snail walk hand-in-hand
Along the foggy silver strand,
++While lobsters dance quadrilles.

And chickens come to make them soup,
From Timbuktu and Guadalupe,
++And ply them with libation;
The lovely velvet night, the Snail
Draws up over her hooves and tail,
++And purrs in adoration.

In darkness, farms and factories wait;
And distant voices agitate;
++But fever cannot move
The Horn and Snail, who now endure,
In dreaming, crystal miniature,
++The tyrannies of love.

Still when the sunrise breaks the seal,
And murmurings of light reveal
++Dead gorgons in the sand,
And voices blather loud and long
In flat and unrelenting song,
++Hallelujahs of the Damned:

The Horn and Snail rise, arm-in-arm,
And over oysters reaffirm
++What will forever be,
That here and now is here and now,
But never then or when or how;
++And walk into the sea.

++++++++++++Mister Tumnus

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