Excerpt from: City of God

And in the halls of power: patricians


to make aspic

		 of plovers...



						lunching with

 . . . elites who whisper

			 je'taime, ma petite

(in absurd 

				   of gauled semblables

				   who pronounce 

				   themselves familiar

				   and sing out of tune)

 			   saying “verily and


			   to drink their life
				   from the maid’s hot slipper 

                              dutifully inside the air

					   ala fragonard....   

Or no,  watteau...

				   (--what 'ho'?


        as in all sag-assity

				the chief does dream
				(who wold his womble
				to be coiled 
                                          in said maid’s deft and squirreled ensemble ) 
					and, she in 
					acknowledgement of his 
				        addressing him thusly, boldly, regardless of circumstance:

					"as verily, humbly I
					importune thee

					sir not to take from me

					the window

					of my personal contumely 
                                                     amongst that narrative
					that might press thy lowest treats
					to my remainders

					as if my

					might live

					as mere carrion to  your 

					....and he
					inside a chorus replying:



					our polls

					well favoring 
					the wrongs

					of number

					as bombs regale

					the shades of your griefs


					without surcease

					inside the collateral dommage


					my falsely elected pledges"

			and she then, innocent,
			and reviled by him and others for her grace
				inside his laquered and horned

				that remained as stained
				as it was elevated
					who fain would slumber




					DC's Baedeker

					as she, so frumious

					pfleshly shape

					and the forced singularities

					of her enforc-ed

					said back to him 
					her blond resistance

					“And you  so randy

					to verily seed

					this  flavor ed body
					with your unperfumed


					you who art  
					nettled  in calibrations

					&sing desire

					as desire's


					in caress of 





						formalized gollems

					of your vasty crimes'"

                                          whereupon suddenly a chorus entereth unexpectedly
					and sings: 



						 the furtive 


						of this seduction's


						is the wind

						in the unwinding

  						of thong
                                                               through implement

						where bodice
						would fly

						as kisses



						into the silence

						as desire
						is untoward:

		                                (and she who was his object 
						interjects to whispereth:

						"ahh wind

						I am so alone

						and I implore thee:
						how is it  you do not

						erase me more?")			

(the above chorus followed by fair maiden's further answer, yea, her elaboration to him, 
which, in its rigorous rejection of his  advancements, did take on a character of silent
praying that was not unlike a pathetic beseeching which inflamed him all the more as he witnessed her squirming,) and
she said: (contumely... sailors kissing Naussicaa) "where men of death to halberds bred pluck hearts with dead homerics dimly therefore to sing inside a putsch... 8:45 AM... when contumely smacked upon yon towers and thy thornbush did flavour an oily appropriation in rush of yeas to neigh ...contumely its mirrored falling in desire's wound . . .and said imperial replying in a haze "in silence ought thou lick my ivies through duty's linens at beauty's nape" and she(aside) contumely. . . as thy sighs would fill me and that which is below would grow: & said leader suddenly yet again, sharpening his mammoth Texas
 elbows: a bellows then for thine fortune know that thou wouldst take what came to slake my desire in thy fleshly pillows and she:( clearly and forthrightly now) contumely. ...sir I shall forever your defeat to seek in starry fortune where hazards waite for love is a grimace of girdled wrongs and I have come ne're well to your bygones. and he, in retort: have come contumely to pinch the devil's tail and roar against the ordinance and the prefect's veils. for “I can hire one half to kill the other” and laugh and laugh and laugh and summer. . . (and then so entereth a dead knight suddenly sitting up to speak) "Aye, contumely... the sibilance of night describes the future of every sacrifice time would pen as it erases while singing with song much persiflage. ** chorus: stars and the stars that stars erased ! bitterness. tears along a turing surface... and the nodal radiance of forgotten shades who sing and dance and sit (contumely) (and now, at this juncture, quite by accident,
enters a jesuit.. who shall, in this piece, do nought but sit, as there are no templars left to get) and said maid in reply. Talking past him: "aye perfumely the ministration of your fenestrations concerning the current administration --auggggggg remove me... ...the window seeks its shape in sky the prefect seeks his shape in ardor... but none may plead with cfr or find their shape inside its shape or break the pain from its shining pates. . . arrhhghhhggg the wind and thine honorifics that fuck it stings as nettles beneath the farrier's apron Aye and a...resumptive presumption of said imperial’ blue is the warrior's begetting inside the harrier's anti-genesis. . . (and she still speaking, eliding then) "and ..pharmaco-therapy...? good sir prey easy, that thou wouldst take from my head it's greatest sufferage for a lilting deference that serves you bread and the pain that embroiders itself in forgotten contumely.... ** And then said chorus breaking in again on said forc-ed couple: oh time that has come and time that has not turned left and time that has wander ed and time that has leverag ed and time that has so ld and time that has canker ed and time that has fl ed and time that has knacker ed and time that stink eth and time that suffer eth time that floods and time that pixellat eth snaggething lilies out of dagon's hair time's roundness as if a silence grating red flesh inside green strip ed melon with winter the muse of a sun bereft... . . .and just then that maiden interrupteth with a loudly squawk of empty interest, saying: "awwk. undo me, &arroint thy pelf, that would worm its savor in my dewy melt and put a shade from wintry styx into and through thy flesh's avarice echoing inside these too-permeable depths" ** And many elites singing back in chorus: "thy sigh's contumely are stars cascading and troth to cries that mint desire's devilment awry. Aye. Consumes me. (as you oh laggard on the road to wealth know that a bear always rides yon bull's back & that our many suited enron that steals from pawns does hide its lack in frutitage of ho' money against the sibilance of any most unfavored manichee) and she: (fair maid speaking yet again) "anon good sirs and madams who sing at threat of my barest neck I shall thee most humbly and
 metaphorically thwack for none but a Templar may offer a moneyed solace aye contumely may the words of of a churl cuckold thy husband and strange wetted lips know thy wifey 's wrack. ** And sang that chorus again so empty from nowhere: sleep whose bliss is a single breath and winter whose stars are
 singular and torrents of snore to which stars bore indigo into ruins of apoplexy to sing the music of a spirit and teach the winter to adore the fall... (yet before they can finish our chief doth interject sounding forth in a finely managed executive ardor: in reply most humbly to his object petit a: in monologue not duet and most pathetically "Reduce me. please. a master needs his slaves As I am death not grace come to time's mortal aches to undo that silence that silence makes amid contumely's starry shroud its dark conceits & human torpor beneath (contumely) a viscous humidity that seeks thine sweet and fleshly cloud. ** And she, replying to his sighs: "oh ruins that would make me late oh ruins that would kiss me prating, upon thy great stone pin that would tune my furry plebiscite in the city's creams where I would be reverse-Pentheused I do not care what thou wouldst I do not care what thou couldst I do not care what thou shouldst I do care what thou doest I am mere salience of His grief though spires rise through thong or brief and I who have become mere sigh in your creams see more than kings or queens may dream...)
— David Hickman