Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Sydney Greenstreet I Presume



green kidneys erect their plumes
hovering over the emerald causeway
what is a shorthand or a nicked name
the relationship between desire and noise
is nowhere mentioned in the annals of traditional culture
except by means of a creamed sleet splayed laterally
across the contumacious exhumation
of all that is most ambiguous about the mandala-like
construction of hell

green plums stuff the kidney as it bathes in whiskey
where is king ubu when the maltese fulcron deskinned
wearing green and emerald external kidneys
from which twin falcons descend
green sleep is wind

Sydney now is a bald fat baby
holding a ceramic crone's head in his hand
the milk white woman's head of Wilkie Collins
or the green and foetal falcon at the heart of this kidney
house
plumbed
now
Eleanor Rigby
hold fast your kidneys
for here comes fat Sydney
saying
How does your garden grown?

Rows of green Sydneys
with heads replaced with kidneys
and falcons instead of toes
green plums in whiskey

it's not enough to say this or that
but what cannot be said
should hiss as a red hot stone
a stone
at the very top of a top hat
slowing burning its way through the throat

what possible meter could there be
to display the actual absurdity
of the universe
drinking whiskey
from a plumed kidney

groan

as Fosco longs for Bosco
amid the coven
of bacon


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