After the Orgy

1 February 2016

i is an / ugh it’s an ignoramus
jamais jamais u say / or maybe nether nether
its inland sequel is counting on this Eur
optic allusion to echo it &/ or braise it w/
outsourcery in terror pots of ennui & rain
flowers overtly peer out
no less ensorcelled than stoner food
so naturally some cat

whose deputy moi disappoints
is appointed montage
& the relevant delusion is a man w/ money
& ici an aussi trysting the rules
that like a tonne of organic eclairs
drape a new noir across the Bois-like lures
i’ll pass on the pas des deux thanx
get to the point

that our swords had a tang & whereas o
& u caressed me w/ red tape
worms castigated
our puerile & futile violence toward the budding
bourgy eggheads burgeoned & now
log on to download God from the bots
i dance on the verge of & purity deserts
time lore & legislation

deploying a Leunig moon
night unshackles
dense with chaos & glass above the hotel’s pole
fat spleen bats careen about
a party rented out by a billion celebs
channelled through cathodes to audit each
Everest movie premiere in which Madame
XXX turns tables on a P&O

coming down from the Alps i clock out
from the party but land on its feet & like another
glib latency we did
pirouettes for cock & held a tournament
our comprehension of bras was
so hammed up a unicorn in denial of plaques
flogged the place & although rustling
infants regarded this

mauve imagery as a great maze of in vitro
in a coruscating vein today
fumes w/ magazines that mate
& guesstimate like machine guns as to why why
why do bats on castor
sugar always sing in technicolour
a cirque de slander let’s elope
my funnel webs my blemishes

we’ll sing chez Bluebeard’s at the abbatoirs
taking pot-shots at Targét
at the haughty few who suck back the gravity
of long tirades & bark in voices
our settler mess ruing the grand
spent at the sales
where flowers retrograde queerly
mercurially déjà

voodoo & u who peer at my cash my
precious poor lark’ll hit the ceiling we’ll traverse
toilets dissing the clock
wise anti-delirium & go back
Down Under where the rest sank Freud
après the ludic deluge
ici aussi
totes


(‘After the Orgy’ is an inversion of Rimbaud’s Après le Déluge)

This entry was posted in 53.0: THE END and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related Posts:

Comments are closed.

Please read Cordite's comments policy before joining the discussion.