the clarion ::
beer and pindar*

it's like believing the gangster lords
and their sister
- female as a volcano -
will break the race
their hounds will win the catford dogs
and i'm there cheering
- the crowd cheers -
and i sing - we sing -
the words of the running dog song
i feel raised like the buddha
to a purity of judgement
i am to decide the race
i naked before a thousand opinions
will pronounce

i have seen great denials met
a fox giving up eggs
a farm of trees and engines giving up monotony
a clarion reader giving up its inducing fear
so i will make
all those chaotic opinions
all those contradictory bets
all that violent self assertion
wilt

and there she stands
like a city on fire
promising ecstasy like a fruit promising juice
as naked as a tree in her leaves of spring

and though england may race like fools for gold
and though lord pisswater may promote his coward gestalt
and though i may burn such a squalid lust

i will not pursue
i would be foolish

*li po led me to this poem