On the top of the world I
in the poet”s tower
up up there
in the gray sky
letting my thought out
singing in full voice
it is all rock and roll
it is all in those blades of grass
on the Bryant Park lawn
where Nikola Tesla fed
his beloved
white dove
she then flew to him
to the stone tower
landed on the edge
of the New Yorker
Hotel window sill
up up there in the clouds
on the 33rd floor
in the garret
where they wed
among the stone faced griffons
as witnesses
where I dwell now
Among narrow gothic walls
Encircling his ascetic bed
trying to get into his head
to write a sonnet about
how he tamed Niagara falls
how he lit the first electric city
how he discovered magnetic waves
and about the earth energy
and the eternity
he knew
writing
the great American ode
reciting it with gusle
as if it were a Serbian epic poem
about how he ended up here
the wizard
isolated and forgotten
although he changed the world
we live in
his world
lives in
my poem