such rights not recognised
none at least decree or otherwise.
selections made at ramdom
through the collar of the mad march hare
buttoned like a turnip
in the image of the great one\'s self-belief.
crossed staves themselves alone are not enough
to break the fall of prehistoric art.
a thimble-full of dry whit
from the safe side of a brood
too many thousand times their cannons roared.
if only they had known you long enough
to stumble through the chest-high blades of grass
that cut the bitter-lemons of your mood.
the great heave-ho. the stem of middlemarch.
a woman scorned who dared no protocol.
all systems have their rules, so we are told.
one single fold of paper
flies the valley of a spine
where mother mary kisses all who sleep
and weeps the tears of middle-class reprieve.
the repression of such anger fuels the horn
restraint will bring no quality of life.