6204. I SHOULD BE WORTH A BUNDLE

I SHOULD BE 

WORTH A BUNDLE

'Yeah, you will be  -  when dead.' If that's

got to be the last thing I hear this year, I'm

going home early. And now. Just another

fruit-of-the-loom pie-face reveler talking

his breath at me. So sickening, like a bad

cat howling, to hear how dead writers get

ahead. Well fuck all that then, 2014, and

15 too. I have to zoom ahead already to 

have make any sense : playpen revelers,

that girl with three teats, the two guys with

their dicks and the fellow swilling gin.

Oh man, what kind of shape I'm in.

-

Let me in. Let me in. I'm out too late, and

now I have to eat before I sleep  -  to hell

with the new year and all that. It's another

accumulated dance of masques, and people

all running helter-skelter, feeling each other

up, trying to get laid, finding a date when a

date's already had  -  and isn't this all about

a date anyway? Hell, I don't know.

-

I'll be worth a bundle when this is over. Make

my gravestone a Cadillac? Etch my last words

on the big granite stone : 'What the fuck?

What the fuck? What the fuck...?'

6203. PENNY-PINCHING GILBERT

PENNY-PINCHING GILBERT

'C'mon in, I can get it for you cheaper.'

As he spoke, he held the books in his hand.

'These weren't here before; I'm dazzled.'

-

The point behind this : he's living well within

his means, and only buys what he can sell higher.

'It's simple living, all this, that's what makes

it come together. 

-

The many levels of life-love will slowly

take over. Everything in its place dissolves.

6202. LEGISLATE

LEGISLATE

Making another move, the debaters ramble on;

they speak of nothing but conditional ways

and means. Outside the large windows, the

town square flies a lazy flag and the empty

bandshell makes not a noise at all.

-

This must be a magistrate judging, or

maybe a judge ministrating  -  how that

stuff goes, I don't always understand.

-

Two weeks ago, the men with the ledger

books hadn't even been appointed : now

they're (already) know-it-alls. Or acting so.

Sitting here, I'm so thirsty I want to

legislate a drink  -  not a cocktail,

just a drink. Let the others do all

the drinking in this town. 

-

If space here is at a premium, than my

premium space should be worth a bundle.

6201. WHEN I WAS THE HUNTED

WHEN I WAS THE HUNTED

When I was the hunted one I learned pretty

well  -  where the fallow spots for hiding

where the best, how to make silence a thing

never heard. I even knew about cancelling my

reflections on the water. I was sharp and slick.

-

Then I started going places where I shouldn't

have  -  not for show, mostly just for utility,

and the game of it all anyway. Showing my

face at coffee counters and bars, buying an

old sweater at a thrift shop for the poor. 

Nosing around in library shelves. yes,

someone must have caught a

glimpse of me.

-

It started pretty innocently  -  they sent over

someone's mother to begin talking to me. I

feigned an interest and kept it up. Small talk,

then a little more conversation  -  one time,

then again, and then again. Until they were

able to calculate my routine, I guess.

-

Then, one day, they got me.

Just swooped in, and in the

middle of a very gentle

sentence, I was had.

Taken.

Gone.

6200. TRAILING CLOUDS OF GLORY DO WE COME, FROM GOD WHO IS OUR HOME

TRAILING CLOUDS OF GLORY 

DO WE COME, FROM GOD

 WHO IS OUR HOME

Both beauty and exactitude take title

to my claim  -  and only now, by them,

am I mad. Mad like an artist, and mad

past redemption. In such a way, truly,

will I live forever. (Trailing clouds of

glory do we come, from God 

who is our home).

6199. JACOB SWAN

JACOB SWAN

Not this alone, harbinger of,

bringer of : I see so many other

things  -  the colors of a heart in

change, the bloom of a natural

violet or rose. The lily in the

scented bath. All of these 

things are alike.

-

Take a task, oh Baby Doc from

Belvedere, take a task and do it.

Your Tonton Macoute slay dreams

like Devils slaying wavering souls;

morning's minions mounted.

6198. AMELIE

AMELIE

She loves me like coins in a

fountain  -  nothing as disingenuous

as that : this earnest feeling, this

rapture. I would baste her buckle

a hundred years on, and no real

address would I ever find.

6197. AGAPE

AGAPE

I have done the hundred things I started

out to do : William Blake put it thusly - 

'the cistern contains; the fountain overflows.'

My further stage then  -  creativity  -  is 'giving

birth to beauty' by surpassing the dullness of Man.

That regular boor, that fat Moloch, that achiever,

amasser, keeper and holder. Collector and seeker

of riches. That filthy alchemist of things which pass.

My own satisfied Eros is the creative end of this

world for me. I contain all things, yes, but

I overflow as well; truly overflow.

6196. ALEXY ZAMYATIN

ALEXY ZAMYATIN

He says he will make the coffee, while

his lover yet sleeps on the bed. I say OK.

But, I can see her quite clearly from here,

as he goes about his work : she is true, and

beautiful, and asleep, yes, and quite naked.

-

Her legs, in fact, are splayed and arranged

in their non-arrangement as she sleeps, and

they are, alas, quite open. All that I can see

is all that I'd ever wish to see  -  quite good

enough for me. Those pinked and sinuous

gentle folds of browning skin, tucked over

as a cleft, and sort of onto one another, 

in a crooked, wrinkled maze.

-

And  -  just like that as well  -  rounded

breasts, still quite sleeping too. Oh, not a

sound, not a one; and he  -  he still makes

the coffee. (Oh, I love the mornings).

6195. TAKE ASIDE THE PRODIGY

TAKE ASIDE THE PRODIGY

Yes, take aside the prodigy and

beat him to an inch  -  a lead pipe

to his head, a razor to his eyes.

Make him blind! Surprise!

-

Yes, take aside the prodigy and

strap him to a gurney, gagged. Let

him live then, if you must, but only

if in pain. Go. Pierce his hands and

stomach; twist a foot; break a leg,

or two. I don't care what you do.

6194. LIKE LEANDRA OF OLD

LIKE LEANDRA OF OLD

What then is wanted : how many things,

and how much of each? If I wander

westward, only mountains and no coin. 

If I go east, the ocean. If I remain, here,

a rich man in a peculiar destitution.

Let me list : Descartes maintained that

the essence of Man consisted in the

ways of 'thought' and thinking. Aristotle,

by his own reckonings, had called out

for the same, instead, as 'contemplation'.

The essence of Man is the contemplative.

There's a difference, right there, already.

Elaborated earlier by Plato, in 'Symposium' 

and again in the Phaedrus, it was found instead

to be Eros  -  or as 'Mankind' finding satisfaction

for its 'Love' unending. Freud said Man's

essence consisted of 'desiring'. Oh dear,

so much. So many the distances between.

Now  -  by these all factors  -  I find 

myself just needing to remain.

-

The next thing I know they'll say

I'm Chippewa. (If I kiss you,

I'd have to kiss them all).

6193. HAMMER OFF THE GODS

HAMMER OFF THE GODS

Yes, off, like they say about destruction :

take down those heads and chisel away that

idol. We'll be having no more of that. Now

is a new world of shameless pain.

-

Every nation of this world shall be humbled

and fall  -  the light ones and the dark, the

nettlesome and the dumb. Reserve yourself

to keep your time proposed and ready.

-

This book I hold has flaming pages, and they

are burning my hands. Burning my spirit and

burning my soul. I cannot see you while I wait.

-

Find me this mote, the center of my eye.

Pick it out, and leave me alone.

6192. LACHRYMOSE

LACHRYMOSE

Then I will go slowly and silently into night

without a word : the beetle-brow of eternity

will intermittently blink back at me. In this

world, it was only me, seeking something,

seeking apples, seeking passage, seeking

her. Voyager, now, this passage wanes.

6191. AND HARM COMES TO HARMLESSNESS

AND HARM COMES 

TO HARMLESSNESS

It's all in tomorow's idea : indecisive and 

indistinct. Each part of as man is another 

part less than divine. Let the whitewash

keep the world busy.

-

On the edges of town they've built the

jails and prisons. The problem is they're

filled already  -  the mind is a mighty jailer.

6190. OF THEE I SING

OF THEE I SING

Tired of Capital Sin I laze about within,

seeking nothing else but the gumption

of the doing.  Cannot recognize the difference

now, between the hoping and the wishing, the

placement and the place. Admit it, I don't know.

-

Carlita and Cleopatra too, both were just here.

The asp and the snake, alike  -  one is the other,

like a lie is the truth and the boat sails the water.

-

Here in an early-morning light, I speak to

no one but the man nearby is playing music.

Detroit, and the single strip of destruction he

wants to call home. The gas station guy sits

down on his bench. There's no one here.

6189. EXCRUCIATING THIS DETAIL

EXCRUCIATING THE DETAIL

Inspector somebody has a broken nose,

walking with his face down in the flowers

and trees. Looking about. "I need to find 

something here, Eve, to tie you to the crime.

It's been said  -  after all  -  over and over you

know it was you." This modern lady wasn't

listening  -  she was on her Apple instead.

6188. LATE OF ENGLAND WAY

LATE OF ENGLAND WAY

Why do you savage these earthly isles?

How long before this endsite is the last

thing you'll see? Take with me the trek

to the oceanside shore : where the salted

waters run deep, surging and 

flashing  about the sands.

6187. MY CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCES

MY CIRCUMSTANTIAL 

EVIDENCES

The Bible can float on water, those walking with

it cannot. I am the general practitioner of your

mind and morals  :  the one you never met. And 

I am waiting for the eternal recurrence of all good

things, the supermarkets-general of life and limb.

My hobby shop is your open heart  -  and I am

waiting for the re-supply of wonder to be coming

your way. Evidence for being is all around me.

-

(And I will be waiting for a long time to come).

6186. MY LATEST IMBROGLIO

MY LATEST IMBROGLIO

So, OK, this guy is talking to me about

Jenna Fischer  -  nobody I know, him nor

her  -  but he wants her badly. He goes on

about some show I never saw. What can you

do? This is Amerika today. I tell him about

Kafka  -  he says 'what channel?' I guess it's

like that everywhere; they all come down their

mother's chute, and then we're stuck with them.

I can't say 'forever', but damn, it's long enough.

6185. EMPTY MAN BLUES

EMPTY MAN BLUES

I remain the empty man with a bugger in

his shoes. I've got eyes for a handle, and

these empty man blues. Everywhere I turn,

there are others in a line  -  if they're not busy

talking, they're busy with crying. 

-

The salami-loaf breadman falls down the

stairs  -  his mantle's in the ketchup, yet he

does what he dares. The last man running

has ten pound shoes, and he keeps on in

place, paying those dues. I've got eyes for

a handle, and these empty man blues.

-

Send me a signal  -  all those Voyager things:

the man and the woman etched on glass, the

Beethoven sonata, Numbers and digits for the 

to see, that series of twos. I've got eyes for

handle, and those empty man blues.

6184. MAGICO TREMOLO

MAGICO TREMOLO

The ice on the water is turning to gloom.

I want to be skating on what will come soon.

6183. NOW LIKE TIME

NOW LIKE TIME

Now like time I expire, the dwindling date

goes down the milk-carton hole. There's no

discerning anything new right now : pincers

and stealers, running from things, that crab

again scurrying along the black-bottomed sea.

-

In the library, the pretty-lady with the catalogue face

hands me another book; next to the video counter

we stand, each looking at words. She says 'We've

only loaned this out a few times over the years,

and we've found anyway that no one understands

a thing inside this volume anyway.' Then she

says it will most probably be deaccessioned in 

January. One week too long for all that.

I sign my name instead.

6182. NO MORE EVERYTHING

NO MORE EVERYTHING

It's all over, now drown this bastard

Santa in blood thank you please. I'm 

tired of people hugging and all that 

swelling music of the happy cheers 

and stupid talk. I'd rather speak 

to a potato. 

-

I skipped this Christmas just by hiding

out of state, gone away alone and in some

silence of the road : canine vittles and a

big white barn. Never had a better life

than this. No jawboning jabberwockey,

none at all, for me. Ice that cake.

And eat it.

6181. IN THE RESPITE OF THE AGES

IN THE RESPITE 

OF THE AGES

As in putting a flag at half-staff : there is

no meaning worth the salt of such an 

encumbrance. Meanings, like movies,

elide and change their social patter. 

In trying to read our cuneiform shadows,

we mistake the message for the cut.

-

Outside my downtown window, two

men are sweeping the expanse before

them : brooms, a pail, some water, and

the bags with which to hold the trash. 

They keep their heads down, intent 

on cleaning this world.

6180. ALL THE TIME

ALL THE TIME

The swing set of altered means is

running in the wind  -  a simple twist 

and turn, thankfully, this time without

children : sometimes, all it takes 

to make me smile.

-

 I love solitude. My god is a verb. 

The act is the essence

-

There's a little-known world within

each of us, saintly. The step is quiet,

and the motions are never heard. We

think we know the way, as it 

unfolds before us.

-

I love solitude. My God is a verb.

The act is the essence.

6179. PRESIDENT

PRESIDENT

High above the city, in the sky, the

town's demons cry of foul deeds.

The master in the backroom is

arranging his threads. 'We make 

money from any deal we can, you 

understand. There's nothing to it,

just add to the number. Buy low,

sell high(er). Sort of like that.'

-

It's a ten-year sentence, waiting

all this out. I've nothing to show

for it but lethargy now. A few

piles of money in some very

nondescript banking city.

6178. INTENSIFICATION

INTENSIFICATION

This highway is a brute; you have forced

my hand. I am speeding past the human points

and exits, seeking another land. Entirely, that is.

I have known five hundred people to say the

least  -  talking and badgering all the sure-points

of such communication. This highway is a brute.

-

I am turning off  :  having paid the toll just far

too many times. Most of the rest, I can easily

ignore  -  there goes a pancake house, someone

else's stupid Hot Dog Johnny's, a beefsteak palace

and a barbecue. A garden store, and something

for adults. 'Lowest prices in the state!' Yes. This

Pennsylvania is surely a very funny place.

-

This highway is a brute, yet I take it all in.

Quite astute of me, don't you think, to have

packed for you to eat on the road, while we

drive. Everything else is shuttered after five

anyway : not much to do once the sun goes

down in this Winter town. The Mayor, I

bet, plays marbles with his kin.

-

Over there, look at that, it's Mauch Chunk, where

the coal wars were settled out. Men were executed,

yes, right there. The Molly Maguires, they were called.

Go ahead, look it up on your every-loving, linked-in 

phone. Labor wars took all the fun out of working.

-

Now that everything else has been settled and closed,

doesn't it all make us seem so defensive and useless,

each at the same time? One place is as good as the next,

I suppose. A good day for a hanging, a nice day to die.

6177. TILT A WHIRL

TILT A WHIRL

Caritas. My ancient Gaol. I have

lines that echo in place. My life

is a staggering booklet of 

chimes and music.

-

Majestic yet momentary, as

fleeting in the passage as a 

moment within a sleep. I doze

awake through this life.

-

Aligning goals with preoccupations,

why that's the easiest part. Testing

the mettle to see if it holds, that's

where the work comes in.

6176. MARVELETTE

MARVELETTE

On the same shelf as a few books, a mirror

was hanging  -  something 'simple' enough 

to 'enlarge' the look of the room. I never 

understood that interior decorator talk  -  

all those tricks and shortcuts to make an

effect. Senseless and superfluous to me.

Like those jabbering idiot women on TV,

swooning on their shopping shows about

another hundredth pair of shoes or pants.

If you've got to have everything, then you

really need nothing. Oversell the plaque,

and then you too die. Aggrieved, with

no proposal. Now I watch these

Catholics cross the street.

-

It's only 5:15 PM, on Christmas Eve, and

now their Christmas Mass is over  -  whew, 

and yeah, got that shit out of the way. It used

to be strict and it used to be stern, now it just

useless and all  -  Midnight Mass the night 

before, and then it was 6PM Saturday mass,

and forget all that Sunday crap. Now, they've

even moved their Christmas Doggerel Collection

Mass to 4:30 the day before. They should get

into their Heaven so quickly, I'd say.

-

Need I mention how all of this just makes me 

sick? Jackhammer Jethros humming the lanes,

sanctified mamas in secretary dress. I don't know,

and I won't care. They hire the cops to cross them.

-

Now we're back to the subject  -  the other one 

with which I began : on that shelf of books, some 

fool's hung a mirror. It seems to be (really) 

reflecting just nothing at all. I'm catching

a bus, to some other place.

6175. NO ARMSTICE DAY LIKE THIS EVER BEFORE TRANSPIRED

 NO ARMSTICE DAY LIKE THIS EVER BEFORE TRANSPIRED

Tavern On the Green this ain't  -  Manchild In the Promised Land 
neither. The miserable ranchero on the pampas of Peru, he comes 
home running backwards, enflamed. Now the Muslim fuckers 
have a Jordanian to shave.

-

I'll imagine Allah laughing. Another chopped fucking head, 
a new neck for the cause : gracious salvation like salivating 10th 
century morons pulling up their pissing-pants. Jesus and salvation. 
Allah and his whores. We kill for everyone today. 
I'm brave enough to  stand back up to say no way.

6174. THE EGG THAT WILL NOT PEEL

THE EGG THAT 

WILL NOT PEEL

Entranced by your entrance, or 

how does that go? Roaming in 

the gloaming, just let me be. 

Ten layers of Life, lived all

together  - I have the magic 

of a mystic life.

6173. MY WINDOW ON ALONE

MY WINDOW ON ALONE

Well, well, Mr. Cat, I bet this night is nothing

to you : gingerbread prancing catnip joys? it's

like Christmas, when the say at midnight all

the animals can talk  -  and do. Conversing 

with one another in their animal ways. I've

never seen it, no; and I've tried. While others

waited for Santas and cookies and all that, 

I waited for the animals to talk.

-

Too bad again, just another chance that's

passed me by. What's this life for anyway? 

I got nothing, ever, for all the foibles I brought.

Like at an old frontier trading-post or something

of that nature, I always wanted to get a parcel

back for that which I gave. I got not anything, 

ever, and nothing to save. Now, not even

the animals will talk. Why is that?

6172. THIS ISN'T HAPPENSTANCE

THIS ISN'T HAPPENSTANCE

The rain fell on my head, from beneath the awning

at 27 W47th, I walked out. Beseeching no one for

nothing, I set out not thinking of a thing at all.

Collar goes up when the neck gets wet.

-

Uptown just a bit, still wet, still raining, I entered

the area of the Museum frontage  -  two 'swingle'

girls, walking fast, as if every care in the world

just then was chasing them. Oh MOMA! 

To see a Matisse again.

-

I used to love delicious ice cream; now I

love a good coffee. I speak to no one,

mostly, and no one speaks to me.

6171. OUT OF A DISTANT PAST

OUT OF A DISTANT PAST

The road crew seems lazy today,

dragging their feet like sluggards 

along a blind-tar hot-pot fix-truck.

Like prisoners, they spray the broken

streets, for cracks and holes. Can't be.

-

Are these men prisoners? No; fine

fellows they work for their money at

Bridges and Roads, McAllister County.

I don't know any of them, but they each

need something quick. Assistance 

for an alliance.

-

Once before, this was all done with

horses; now there's nothing but steam

and gasoline. Yes, steam and gasoline.

6170. HAPPY HOUSE

HAPPY HOUSE

Something like where the sun lives, the

haught of pride and place and the joy of

Being. All together, they come as one.

Hearts amend their weary ways  -  the man

stops by, the man goes. The woman stops

over. The woman goes. We are all as divine

as the figures we attribute ourselves to be.

6169. UNITARY

UNITARY

Into singing let us burst, as one;

a fisted, unitary knot of circular

relation budding forth our leafless

fruits of proffered friendship.

-

Heart is all that matters, heartened

by the mass, the grace is stronger as

the grace is more and more involved.

-

And saviors come not for the one,

but for the many. (Be it so resolved).

6168. MALINGERING SUSPICIONS

MALINGERING 

SUSPICIONS

Not been had for anything good :

the man took my life away. And to

be truthful anyway, I was already

quite lost. Nothing coming back.

The karma of the hatrack.

6167. WHAT D'YA HEAR?

WHAT D'YA HEAR

How is it, what's that, huh? This

myopic crowd makes me seasick

again. All that thwarting  -  the

little cotton candy kid, eating those

sweet, roasted nuts, he's barfing in

the gutter anew. What d'ya hear?

What should we do? Too much

precision, everyone gets tired, at

least this crowd's a mess. Let's go.

-

A pile of fifty watches in this old

store window. Next door, they're

selling five-dollar dresses and shifts.

Each lady in the crowd looks over as

she goes. That street hawker from

Nigeria, he's seven-feet tall I swear!

What should we do? What d'ya hear?

6166. OMEGATRON

OMEGATRON

Might be the one, might not, but for

now the Spanish music plays. The

little senorita is a'shuffle, and I bow.

Some kind of waitress comes rolling 

by; wine and menus, why not?

-

I am a robot for your love, a drone

for your delivery. There hasn't been

a time like this since 1963.

-

I decide I'll make that my refrain  -  

something to repeat again.
(There hasn't been a time 
like this since 1963).

6165. DINNER WITH CHARLES MARTEL

DINNER WITH 

CHARLES MARTEL

"You are a cumbersome man, my friend, and though

I will listen, I will not always understand." He said

that to me, and it was  -  right away  -  pretty clear

there'd be a big divide. "Well," I replied, "I'm here

not to emphasize but to bridge those differences."

-

We sat there, both apparently dumbfounded enough

so as  not to be sure the  next move. "Pepin," I said, 

"your father, what was he like?" He smiled back and 

said, "yes, many concepts presented to me I only just 

now remember. He took to the fields like water takes

to the rivers. Easily natural, quite plain. And here am I."

-

"Oh the things I do not know  -  all this matter about

the spirit and the endings of man. What real difference

is that on the plains where I must battle? After Cologne,

I only want rest really  -  and now I have to form a place,

and even a language. I have already lost so much."

-

A genial man, so thought I to myself. Would he know

the work, would he see the place and the stories he'd be

left with? I spoke : "Do you sense the great divide to

which Mankind heads now? It will all work out  -

eventually  -  take it from me, but there shall be, before 

that, so much more carnage and death. You'll see. Man

can, it seems, never rest until he thinks he's achieved a

'certainty'  -  of which there is none and which is foolish

to even try and see. You should walk slowly, and keep

all that in mind." He smiled back, in almost a sadness

of a gentle nature. "Mark these words," he then said, "I

will try to kill only when and as I must. Is that OK?"

-

"Well, yes, I guess," I said, "but don't get lost within it all."

6164. HERE IS WHAT I PROPOSE

HERE IS WHAT I PROPOSE

This moment is no more than a cracker-barrel

slap-fest. I will give it to you. Right back to

the beginnings : everything turns, all this elastic 

time stretches itself around matter. We sit, enchanted?

The lady wants to wake me  -  she is gossamer and

holds a light. In her lap, the Book of Things.

-

I roamed twenty hills and valleys before I came here.

Behind me, there was a story, and before me another

one stretched. There always was  -  I propose  -

a tomorrow before there was a today.

6163. AMENDATION

AMENDATION 

The other day just the other day.

Car parts in the investigation.

Two cops shot sitting at the wheel.

Daydreams lead to disorientation.

Now, where was I?

-

Here's the yellow light beaming.

High in the sky, Ezekiel's wheel.

Once more I am lifted to the heavens.

This life is more than I feel.

6162. FABRICATE THE MASSES

FABRICATE THE MASSES

The lean-to you live in required attention.

I came over with shovel and pail  -  it fell

over anyway, but we really didn't care.

My own ideas went more towards concrete

and stone  -  an idea of a Roman wall around

all our world. You were more open to gates.

-

'What do you think we should put outside this

wide perimeter?' I remember you asked me that.

I only thought a little and said 'let's fabricate

some idea of the masses.' How advanced was I?

-

Hittites or Canaanites; all those Romans and

Greeks. What difference never mattered, they

all shared Gods and didn't even know it. Do

you remember how  -  for ourselves  -  we 

always seemed to stay above the fray?

6161. ENTERPRISING FOOL

ENTERPRISING FOOL

Now it's snow and ice all over again and nothing

worth anything will ever come forth  -  not until

another thaw in another time. I've tried cooking

this marmalade, but it would only singe.

-

Harvey was an invisible rabbit that only one man

could see ; glimpse and glimmer, the conversation

always ended up as pretending it was or wasn't there.

Like ideologues at a bad picnic, the drinks of logic

spill down the outdoor tables.

-

In the shed, down the alley, at the backwoods turn,

that is where my distant spirit dwells  -  among the

trees and the tall, dark sky between two worlds.

6160. HOMER

HOMER

Ode. To travel. Hurled in their

multitude to the House of Hades.

-

Playing mystery tennis on the lawns

of the sea. Gnawing for years on

the great salt expanse.

-

The ship's capture :  'Bring fire,

and give single voice to the

clamor of battle.'

-

This is horrific  :  nailed to the mast

with knives and seamens' lances; the

scuttled wooden ships of fire.

-

I've never visited your post.

Bring arms to the point of battle.

Do you think there are others behind us?

-

They've brought something down from the

mountain  -  it sleeps in the pearled night

like the lancer's fabled hand, once severed.

-

All of the women of this famous land are

swooning now, for the fires are biting the

shoreline, and they have nowhere left to go.

The acid children wretch. Escape now?

To what?

-

Evacuate some sinking ship. Bring fire, and 

give single voice to the clamor of battle.

Keep right. Slower traffic exit.

Signal. Pay toll ahead.