3/Rosary of Summer

Thus, mindlessly, we,
emperors of ivory asylums,
recover our age-old course:
gin to swig, bitches to lay
fiction to prune, spleen to repair

& I take note of daily exercises, birdflight
astronomy of starlight that whips our frail perimeter
pyramids of water that devour acid hermitage
personages of dreams that mount archeologic stairs
peasants of residence who pull down prayers to their navels:
C visits sick wards & astral cemetery
E smells rubber shoes & splintered youth
D vomits his guts & old philosophy
A massacres chessboards, knighthood of pawns
C swallows her pills, grips heart to stay
D giggles at creative routes, seraph to dare
E guzzles his gin on the road to Mandalay
V brushes his hair for tryst with Neptune, mares
Down, about this cabin
troops of blank peasants, two-penny merchants,
clutch at Madonnas, primitive witchcraft
to deliver all from feudal fair, grace:
Do they note, with ox-eyes, rule of distinction, place?

The whistle blows
The boat lists
The pier hoves

& like worn-out slippers
we slowly

spill out of our sleep

to wail

This entry was posted in Rosary of Summer. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s