Raising a toast To Vanity I drink and cheap hotels within whose doors I pleasured my sad loins, and heard the mattress creak beneath me with sly laughter as dawn coloured those sad walls. Dreaming From death men rise like ripples on the sea. So rose the poet from tranquility, to see castles on the blue horizon, where lured sailors sleep their perfect sleep. Before the calm morn goes out with soft wings, and sunlight flames the temples of first light, vision flashed past his enshrined eyes, breathing life’s flame into his cadaverous clay. Here may I leap, love and…