SIR HERDERP PRESIDERP SDO
Active member
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Growing out, feeling out
After the morning stupor
After death. The carpet becomes
A mileage of forms:
Black livers and petrified tongues
And whiskers from an 18th-century
Musketeer. Discombobulations
Of a waking day, a breakfast of surprises
Contemptuous of rehearsals.
The old decay comes off the walls
Where brittle ears used to sprawl.
They are deaf now
When she is gone.
The fairy scent
And color went
When she went.
And these are dried peeling of skin
She left when she left.
O they will not see the renaissance
Prematurely slain! From ornate
To ornate, plenty to plenty
The cerements. The pillars bleed
With the blood of all things
Bloated with abuse.
The outposts being overrun
The savages at the gates!
After the morning stupor
After death. The carpet becomes
A mileage of forms:
Black livers and petrified tongues
And whiskers from an 18th-century
Musketeer. Discombobulations
Of a waking day, a breakfast of surprises
Contemptuous of rehearsals.
The old decay comes off the walls
Where brittle ears used to sprawl.
They are deaf now
When she is gone.
The fairy scent
And color went
When she went.
And these are dried peeling of skin
She left when she left.
O they will not see the renaissance
Prematurely slain! From ornate
To ornate, plenty to plenty
The cerements. The pillars bleed
With the blood of all things
Bloated with abuse.
The outposts being overrun
The savages at the gates!
