Wednesday, April 29, 2015

sky mandrake poem

tender whippoorwill
today your hazlitt carapace rapiers the gong
our collective human heart
whose festive and incomparable spokesperson
is Ovid's mironic Circe

curs and baboons
cluster round her feet
as she holds out her brew
to sailors in an open boat
which drink it from their smaller bowls
their posture is that of communicants
who participate as theoros
in the mist of a red mass

Cavendum a meretricibus

Circe is no woman
but rather
a circle
a circus
red cocoon
set up as a cathedral
where beings are transformed
by pleasure
and all its secret

and weather beasts have reason
and down from the waists
they are governments

whose emblems
media cups
as youth and beauty
emitted from its nubs
and taken up again
by its koto-faced spider hands

sky mandrake poem

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.