Drums for us, the wasted Masters
Catafalques for them, covetous Generals.
How far have they gone in wasting us,
In ruining our harvests —
Bloodsucking Generals with shrivelled scrotums?
Crowned predators.
Embellished idiots.
Distinguished poachers —
......
They squatted under the rising sun,
testifying to the brutal energy of a dictator,
their scrotums bloated like calabashes
Diseased toes trampled on the
olive leaf once held aloof by sane comedians.
Banners praised the guards of the doorposts of hell.
Their aura smells foul —
Squatting boys —tied tail to tail for
......
Alien interpreters with long, grey beards
predicted the astonishments of the heavens.
Swallows migrate southwards
to the trial precincts of committed
visionaries – they swore dinosaurs
were here once.
A star shoots the length of
night sky in one long-tailed, silent trumpet of message.
Within eons of a blazing, returning
comet and epochs of swollen annihilations,
......
Dining and wining in chalice and
unfathomable china,
her throat swallows gold –
Lady Midas – who sat on domes
and saw ages in faceless waters,
reaping soils of exhaustion
and breaking sacrifices, chewing egg shells
and lightning the night...
Look, there’s a yolk in her throat!
......
Noctilucent creeping ones garrison
The winding paths on the eve of hanging day.
So are the nubiferous skies, yielding fluidlights,
Anti-Satanic and humorous
Gentle drums on the spine of the village
Aid the tramping feet.
And from us here in the horsewhip-guarded
Kennel, prayers!
......
Alien interpreters with long, grey beards
predicted the astonishments of the heavens.
Swallows migrate southwards
to the trial precincts of committed
visionaries – they swore dinosaurs
were here once.
A star shoots the length of
night sky in one long-tailed, silent trumpet of message.
Within eons of a blazing, returning
comet and epochs of swollen annihilations,
......
Noctilucent creeping ones garrison
The winding paths on the eve of hanging day.
So are the nubiferous skies, yielding fluidlights,
Anti-Satanic and humorous
Gentle drums on the spine of the village
Aid the tramping feet.
And from us here in the horsewhip-guarded
Kennel, prayers!
......
Drums for us, the wasted Masters
Catafalques for them, covetous Generals.
How far have they gone in wasting us,
In ruining our harvests —
Bloodsucking Generals with shrivelled scrotums?
Crowned predators.
Embellished idiots.
Distinguished poachers —
......
Dining and wining in chalice and
unfathomable china,
her throat swallows gold –
Lady Midas – who sat on domes
and saw ages in faceless waters,
reaping soils of exhaustion
and breaking sacrifices, chewing egg shells
and lightning the night...
Look, there’s a yolk in her throat!
......
They squatted under the rising sun,
testifying to the brutal energy of a dictator,
their scrotums bloated like calabashes
Diseased toes trampled on the
olive leaf once held aloof by sane comedians.
Banners praised the guards of the doorposts of hell.
Their aura smells foul —
Squatting boys —tied tail to tail for
......