From Gala Roses

Form follows whitely next the big tree shaded

fruitless not full of speeches like King Lear apoplectic

upholstered beneath the tent of his rent sub-

conscious we read as libretto to folly & lust

virtue’s adventure high above nodding

here there to them below dirty-faced with cockney spraddle

good sense good rhymes or not-bad chocolate bar

some poor guy had to leave during the Storm Scene

passing knees in near tears mine also that people

idiotic in castles’ granite chill behind the unicorns

draperies & trumpets strumpets waggle hips

blue skirts the young princes point at

Last reviewed shim10/4/2012 7:16:35 PM