Lost Mary; Life’s Merry

for The Old Contemptibles Association

which came to be

within the Red House

and brought us

through Danzig,

God-made dawn lit the way

to their own Ithaca.

Alas the shuffling

bog-spectres

of Tannenberg

were not so fortunate

those dusty borders,

disassociated Rus—

disease brain's lonely

in the final aisle

fit for dancing

in your seat

mutant wolves

populate the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone.

The bomb cannot explode- no serotonin

remains. Even the melodies

of decades produce

merely a tinker's curse

but within Ancient Vessels

there's power

the former

Dutch Prime Minister

and spouse expired

hand-in-hand, via

death-injection

sopping shining Lincoln's Inn

stone, strapped on-back of sin

mink spoils, stitched at the hem

to its former glory

Washington on hold—

what does the Pedunculate tree

murmur?

Shower runs cold,

my head-side's

countless vein-constellations

unexpected bodies

sank beneath

Birch Well. I could hug

that perfect oval

the incline's impassable

St. Peter In The Forest

emerges from mud—

twilight

Romanesque

swan-feather, kept by breastbone;

journeying Gipsy

has been called home