No whale oil streetlight-spermaceti
(funnelled pale through rancid copper pipes
from the South Pacific/Atlantic)
bubbles;
no cannibal stars
of Otaheite
and Elephant
(cooked in hogsheads retched
to top mizzens/gallants rolling
roiling ambergris
and baleens all dipping flame lugging)
to delight
late promenade-Europe
with such soft soap
such deep diving stars
such blow and effuse and heave
such massif of sea-light—
nevermore the Europa reel
in volcanic biology
and bilge and binge so incrimson aflame
with blow and dive and creak and squeak—
all pipes smoked out
.
.
.
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1 comment:
Hi Steve, I like this....it sounds like a Robert Johnson Delta Blues poem.
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