With bells ringing
and people meddling;
and children around a bonfire
singing:
ring-a-ring-a-dollar
a pocket full of squalor.
Of all the aphrodisias of the all worlds
to make this final vision
not in amorosa but in the incincerator.
That pup is now a green eyed beast:
upon my mouth,
sits some sunlit fantasy
upon some sunlit breast;
now we find a shower of heat
through the soles of our feet;
it burns a hole in our head
and when our brains shall be burnt,
we shall be ate;
and our ashes lie around a blackened stump
to survey mysterious skies, deadened:
the sparkle that went out with that fire
we glimpse in far away star
called Eden.
Once we descended with pride,
now we are in free fall like a dying meteor.
“Dollarisma, Serenissima”
is the princely constellation
of which we are victim,
as every particle of what is left
makes a journey into nursery rhyme.
And those who believe in eternal life
have only the glare of publicity
with which to light their path;
and the friendship of a cancerous dog
with which to howl into the night.
There’s my father skiing with his brother,
skiing with another,
neither his wife nor his mother
are around
and as the brother is bachelor confirmed
this is awkward
as the boy looks like a girl
which troubles me as daughter.
I shall tell Mummy about this beauty:
and the chalet shall be a little cool later.
Mein dame and mien herr,
Bavarian girls
race themselves
to the point of powerful men
in powerful cars amen.
At five hundred miles per hour,
feel their thrust:
to remember those corners
and curls
of the Munich girls.
In the minds of business,
there is not much light between them
and plenty of thrills
on the Strasse of curves and spills.
What’s fair for the dame,
is fair for the herr.
So let them both run:
one to catch the other,
although I could not tell
which was dog and which was hare;
after all,
this is Bavaria.
Mein dame and mien herr,
Bavarian girls
race themselves
to the point of powerful men
in powerful cars amen.
At five hundred miles per hour,
feel their thrust:
to remember those corners
and curls
of the Munich girls.
In the minds of business,
there is not much light between them
and plenty of thrills
on the Strasse of curves and spills.
What’s fair for the dame,
is fair for the herr.
So let them both run:
one to catch the other,
although I could not tell
which was dog and which was hare;
after all,
this is Bavaria.
At the stroke of blackberry,
along electronic highway –
for a moment in this mouth.
A sign in neon,
of killer app,
a signal that all three were relieved about.
A tendency to destruct
in all this driving about,
dumb but with receiver on.
To my blackberry, I always report back.
of colours and squiggles
the mighty dollar
blows deadly like
El Nuno:
riding in patrol
a paper beast with secret signal,
a smell draws the dogs on.
and now, pup,
paying ourselves for what goes up and up
to eclipse the eclipse,
to let it rip.
and everything moving –
saddle and booted,
you rough-riding vigilante.
I’m told out west
you can be completely innocent.
what is this peak you speak of?
of what nobody is sure and dare not speak of.
sail then, sail across the sea and marry me
just as a mountain,
an enormous arm wrestle.
so we bless god for this, our genesis,
in splendour silent.
where there is more to print
literally;
we print more in green ink;
gladly, gladly
we pioneer
with heads of heads, of news
where blinded and broke –
busted,
with bills to pay with more bills
along a stony path of thrills
littered with i owe you’s.
a printing machine
literally;
with which to cover our naked pulse,
to recall each leaf,
its beauty helped us cross ourselves,
saint something
unknown, completely naked –
green it was.
paying ourselves for what goes up and up
to eclipse the eclipse,
to let it rip.
and everything moving –
saddled and booted,
you rough-riding, green-backed individual
out along highways
I’m told out here
the verdict is always innocent.
so what is this peak,
revolver ?
sure, speak, stranger.
the good doctor,
the doctor dollar would say
would say to me,
run away and marry me,
loaded and smoked.
and bless god by and for genesis,
as what we owe
is a summary of information.
with this thing, it’s all or nothing
no half and half will do
i guess i owe, i owe to you
a snafu or something;
a pup to stroke like it was all newed.