To live and die in Londis

One doesn't live in London,
one dies in London.

A Winter Queen of Bohemia in
our midst
Elsewhere lives too
dry Elizabeth Essex.
Dream of brimmed lotions,
quicksilver and
final, eternal rule.

The snail dance meets
the Stork's rising
to phoenix family
Oh yes, the praxis wheel
reccuring 'infinity',
shivering daggers of flame.


The more they have,
the more resentful they get.
Resentful bores
who, being ignoble,
in the end become
most soft-boned.

Atheism, pointless too,
because Nihil is also
a God
The Aesthetic preferable
to mere Ascetic. 

De Montfort

Gamblers, Marquesses

impious ridiculous drunkmen 
dawn duels attended 
by liveried heretics

Wanton cornucopias of privilege,
epicene, tragic crusaded singularities
passaged by bacteria

dessicated coconut confetti,
chalky wines of monks and Kings,
fine Colombusted snow-drivel,  the

sugarcane of Corinthian Gods.

In essence there are few

who reach attic tragedy 
as attainment

they are never philosophers.
Tragedy is impersonal nobility,

tragedy is a fiery dragon on 
a turning wheel.

THE ORGY IS OVER

Finally the orgy over

with macabre fiefdoms

to come;
A dark age rises,

civilisation breaks brittle as a biscuit,

crumb by crumb

Marching to militias

amid gloomy plastic meltdowns
the wires trailing nowhere

The sun has shone, the day

has come and gone

the evening was sweet and elegiac,

now the darkness soars

and the leaves fall

in resignation and despair,

wilting to damp and dissolute mud

Minor notes are struck,

the major has long faded.

Oh Fox, feline hound

saline foe, serpentine member 

Presently,

over a weary grey season 

the last dance of 

twinned redcoats

pert part prance

Unlike that adored 

rodent, the rabbit

You've earned your guise in the 

weft and wattle of this land

Would you see off 

the hoof smiths

horn blowers

horse chargers

Or is the hunter

as much in your heart as

you in his ?

Red flame-breasted brothers
the hounds, horns, thunder of claws

Co-authors

in each others'

imperceptible dream

Last free master of

mythical wiles,

and pitiless fate.

Will your embrace be ended,

your chronicle discontinued ?

Unknown muse 

of this land,
Scrutinized by
frivolous and benign bosoms,
extraneous mothers
Altogether a far-away steel gaze
pitifully projected upon fate

For it's a strange dance
on your pasture 

Beguiled, we remain with
your unwritten saga
Blinded by your bounty of wit 

Bound by your passion 
of war

I am a backdoor Mantis,

the people I know,

don't give a damn
and eat their lovers heads

He's a Wilberforce man

signed his own death warrant,

such is the gage of death, or

the devil's metaphysic.

hot trumps, hot suites, hot turnips, hot roots

hot sheets, hot toots, hot teats, hog rats

Im a back door mannequin, the

big whorehouses don't understand

but the the little girls prance 
after Mantis 

Because your father's love

eats you

because you drown your misery

in wine and french fries

We are all skeletons

and our flesh suddenly

gets tired of hugging the bone

Their heads follow their hearts &

their hearts are frequently misled.

their hearts..

follow their heads

and their heads..

are frequently misled.

Predators will put you out of

your misery,

humans will want to enslave you

She may wish to talk about

science

she don't know about religion,

God knows if shes heard of the

Cuban revolution

Disbelieving is for people

who fear death:

It is the expression of that fear.

Because the atheist is

looking to be free of the fear;

atheism is a faith that fear could be

overcome, but never feeling

it is overcome.

The fear of death is fear of nature;

fear is due to the separation from nature.

Chess is the will of the universe,

Unlike bland half-hearted  
sacramentalism in politics.

Greed is a freedom,

free-will to do wrong.

The moon is not a lie and

is not dead.

It is all we live for, spiritually

and materially.

The moon is a mercurial

mystery
striding upon silver clouds

Mocking all clear thought

and achievement. 

New Man Rotten hat

I met a desultory daydreamer,
Explicitly said out loud

he wasn't a fake
With an internet hotspot 
Bigger than a great lake
They took me to a new church
And baptized me with gibberish
She told me, "liquorice"
I am a new man.