little idyll
|
were there lambs
of course
no capital for miles
the hedgerows hardly
hedged as we our sheep tended
the failure of epic
of x and y I sing
or you heavenly muse
our violence ravishing
the future, violins
uninvented but the lyre
strung, the polis unpolled
|
romance
|
how could it not be
the fabulous conjunction
and & and & not &
what destiny, love
what a hard time we had of it
but golden days fall out
of silken purses, private
|
western
|
ho! galloping to Greenland
the tin cup battering my flank
I bethought myself to ask the rider
whither — and I a mere beast!
|
sermon
|
text doctrine reasons uses
he who surveys all abuse
shall not forever rage
but this day, macabre
fires burn the sea
yea, the holy eye beholdeth
|
lyric
|
over, yes or no, your
sculpted interior
what the first anatomists saw
distressed the vulgar
how flayed, displayed
let us sound thru
cardinal vowels:
ah ay ee oh oo
|
postmodern
|
was it so very flat
the earth
and was our emotion
surplus value
the swing of obsolescence
is great for dancing
like daffodils you on yr island
never saw til now
how particular the flowers
of each place
tiny nostalgias arranged in five petals
or futurities plucked
by the root
|
