Pembroke Chantey

By | 1 August 2015

Unidentified girls of Pembroke sing
The sea was so rough and my hands is so tough
A long time agoooo
Blow-boy-blow – – my diggyman

It goes on like this actually goes on like this coming out of the walls
In a vicious glandular whisper

Did the stones learn it from the girls aurora borealis
Songs of the girls trapped in stone ,
wind in the chimney fattens then rakes the fire
Pentecostal polish on my collar
Mixing in the sheen flakes of death

Fly ont’ the spit of strathspey re-born again to die on whale-jaw hill
The stench of the white man precedes me

Here come Pegasus, bags loaded, walking sideways, it is not only our fancy.
Hi Peggy, on this rottenest of days the sun comes out to appal.
Black Polly Harvey’s out of breath, deliberately stumbles in her plucking
The most beautiful, the most insouciant, still craven
. .hurtling
Then wandering the chalk groves hand in the hand

Louche, douche, I perve on you in the showering can
The air still burnt with our conversion.

Morning with Ernest Louis Matthewsand breakfast by boat-
Frying eggs on s flint of tin, watch the birds of extinction

Look away from the earth, where the atmosphere and its inert lover twitches, the
commingling licks
exchange of cumulus rump, voluptule
fire among the bitches

As we cusp you remarke on that pleasnought smell
Some sort of . . . sea-keg rides the continuous albas above yonder

Make your head as rough as possible
A major dirge oafs the lung
As we make way with square oars to the Blaskets

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