| to Stanton Macdonald-Wright here are the children late from the school where they're brought whistle-sky-eyeing from the day they're born it seems like cicadas fly the caps dark unwelcome world where it has no moon black night naught wholesome daylight we give the clapper water as it goes by for the birds here's a mistake scribe why and here's another clerk to run up totals gadzooks is the warcry now and fudge all our reckoning the light of smudge pots scored the television screen that frost night of old what there was was oranges and oranges made the news old woman the sheaf you carry upon your back it must have the breeze and sunlight bouncing from it and your kimono as well perspicacious as a cat's-eye the rambunctious marble sits as the apple in the circle of Tell behind the mind's eye and there its broker's diminutions sit as the dilute emanations of a well-adjusted meal but the allure of desiderata in its flickers dully rotated by the skin of its passing whiskers dislodges momentarily all wagers for a front and side longing wherewithal from which we turn to relief such as obtains in the wildflowers on the hill dropped by helicopter perchance for naught else by purpose but to enchant if need be else or stars celestial mechanics stratagems biscuits on the tea-tray owned by the professor of numbers for the rookery of the ancients gouge smack in the eye the furrows laved with mascara put a cold fish on it a mackerel or a cold steak with a hand on a fish or a steak on your face walk around doing the Lambeth Walk the salt of the earth as these things go not so much the very assortment of it aggravates as the repetition here they go stolid youth oblivious the staring child of knowledge and pure entire the elder fool slapping his cigarette pack like a horse because the amps were cranked last night some band was in town Frigid Freddys Floozys or Torn Bonze |