Friday, May 22, 2009

391. WEARING A CAPSIZED FISSURE

WEARING A
CAPSIZED FISSURE
Falstaff and Mata Hari
Tenth of May twelfth of June together.
One man's army, another man's good weather.
As equal as partners distressed in good sin, the
weather wore the clothing and threw it all in - while,
on the floor, two naked bodies beating bleating - begin
setting off into the essential essence and interdenominational
frenzied worship of lust. One kid grasped the heartbeat, the
other felt for a breast. It was all so easy as to be ill-fitting.
-
They marched together that November outside London Center.
Ban the Bomb, or Bomb the Bans, or whatever the banners
said - no one seemed really to care or even notice. The entire
Greek Navy stopped by one night, into the Armoured Hire
Pub/Queen Anne's Lane. They too sat amongst the
naked ladies and not a one complained. (One kid
grasped the heartbeat, the other felt for a breast.
You heard it right, yes, yes.) - It's always the
same under the tweaking umbrella.
Freaking umbrella. Twining's
English Tea. Fella?

No comments: