Friday, 20 September 2013
Wednesday, 18 September 2013
Bitten by visions of Virgil
Bit by bit, don't
bite into my influenza,
scrape and turn your shawl -
does it bring work to your heart ?
trenchant fear, subjective and near -
flax and twine,
aphid nectar, walnuts and Syrian wine
while next it tastes tenderly as
sawdust and lime
Content with the morrow,
which is wearier than old ale
crushed grapes of matchless sorrows,
the myth on evening's horizon
(of horizon's menu)
Could you give any figs as you sit here,
blooming rooms, hearths sputtering all hours
In unison minds
married to the hereafter
Quickly, and plaintive through
churlishly lithe,
I find your swines swimming
on the riverside with my swans
But do not let us quarrel any more
Tuesday, 10 September 2013
Hysterical Triumphs of the Supine
Working in a candy store
in untailored dummy clothes
of cardboard blue
'tis no recipe for a tastefull dalliance
When Knox bought cadavers
When Knox bought cadavers
from Burke and Hare
The junk always assemblesat the end of the pier
I've been biased toward my right hand
Hagiography and rot,
inability to feather-line the cot
All is as brittle as Bulgarian shacks
in Dumont
Let the tardy parvenus
Pandora's
Its a male hypothesis,
essentially antithetical to women
politics, philosophy.
It's refreshing that they do not care.
Today's another day
smothered with daktacort
a tear's another tear,
just as
I've been loving animals for years.
I've been loving animals for years.
Friday, 6 September 2013
Where were you at the beginning
when madness, along with fairness
was just a cause
at the birth
of a cool breeze
You could be manichean
'neath the jewel thief sky
before a blue green sea
lonely as a hungry dog
with half dead family,
teeth missing like a whore
One of these days
gonna shine my own shoes
in barbarous despair,
in suicidal ecstasy,
It ain't fair
these harridans got
their hooks in me
when madness, along with fairness
was just a cause
at the birth
of a cool breeze
You could be manichean
'neath the jewel thief sky
before a blue green sea
lonely as a hungry dog
with half dead family,
teeth missing like a whore
One of these days
gonna shine my own shoes
in barbarous despair,
in suicidal ecstasy,
It ain't fair
these harridans got
their hooks in me
Monday, 2 September 2013
Where hillbillies declaim
Shakespearean proclivities
and bluegrass ascends
the crenelated stair of baroque,
As faded ornamentation of the Saracens,
counter-reformation built on
foundations of flamenco dancing
& strains of
black veined mulatto's
black veined mulatto's
Therein contained,
lay concealed
in musky mystique, are
seven veils
in musky mystique, are
seven veils
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