Category: Filí my pockets
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Leviticus
Tent of meeting How must breadeater’s treat votive meats? In a way our carnivorous Lord finds pleasing. Tentative about speaking, need to know basis Nameless, faceless, code-only communications. Is there such a thing as afraid to win? Given me, all that kings have would be wasted Rot does not dissipate fresher-caught tastes.
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Siege year
For the last time: Hannibal ad portas! The formerly studious now permanently stewed crowded port casks Dreams of reamed flesh, fresh blood spilling as from poured flask Sad bedhopper dress dropping showing guests a ruined back, poor lass Above the mantel beside his campaign cutlass, master’s paindrinking lash My drink he ensured was poured last…
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The tyrant’s cot and chewed blanket
Fledging Rome knowing only wormbegging poemsongs As throng the ere-longing throats of recent egglodgers. Lacking planting balance to remove one’s own socks without falling Soft-pated, showing flashes of patent fury that they’ll make their fashion. Avast this Carthaginian rabble Will the well-trained legions of allegiant Rome, wolf haver. “Is that what the books say?” One…
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On the fringe
Of what can I boast? Health to whom none will toast A worthless person, worse by the toke My dispersing purse and erstwhile hope. I am nursed by the castaways of merchants My emergence makes them nervous My clothes are mouldy and need detergent Living the life of an urchin Or an army deserter, only…
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Holding court
Deep, gravitous speech like a priest He the husbandman who checks the cheek-hue of east each evening We his sheep girdled fan-fashion about his fashionably unfashionable feet Like children seated upon the cerise knee’d lap of a gift-giving beard laughterful Yet feared, his list updated yearly like a menacing tax-tyrant’s bible of tithable denizens.
Alchemisland 