Monday, November 15, 2010

poem || Jeff Harrison

Royal Honey

a large hand-fan of blood ...
whistling blank regular surely
cocked difference
includes the preceding line of capitals
you can get more A if you don't mention A,
so mention Claude Gueux

do you, Claude,
touch that which we bow towards
& obey even then the microscope of hatred?

Claude Gueux, King of Thieves,
your sepulcher
is not an idea whose time has come
your tomb, lout,
opens not inwards but out with an infant's breath

there is the sky. derived from old age
there is one thing stronger
than all the grace of youth,
Claude Gueux is one thing stronger
than the grace of youth
one thing, still everything yields to be said

do, Claude, suffer a biographical account of
dawn, flower, & what of "In the GRAVE is
the GRAVE & you, Claude, to the dews of the dew"?

a brief analysis of spirits flown: Claude Gueux,
I'm building an index on this wee child of Claude Gueux
who saps this index rests upon our eyes
the index title is NO ROAD TO DAMASCUS

triple row of air plashed with suns at bay
third volume of a history of pointy teeth
trio of Claude Gueux, Royal Honey, & "A"

the corner of the corner of snow,
cornerstone, marble turns to snow -
for solace, Ol' Claude, or is't a metamorphosis?

Claude Gueux, let people alone!
he stepped into so much a later period
than the hawk and her prospects!
he opened the light down to the tone for
NOBODY if not for YOU,
fitted so tight into his waistcoat pocket

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