Our Lady on the Circle Line – 30.11.11

vapour trails

golden haze of London

finally sinking

into the stark handsomeness

of winter – she throws us

a thin-lipped smile  and a

cyclopean wink       so long

the light crashing over these gables

has travelled to Jupiter and back you know

web of warrens      

                     overlaid topologies

tesseracts folded into tesseracts and again into quintessences –

spin compounded by acceleration

alembic arithmetic

the abacus abases us

she lifts the hem of her baroque gown and behold


she is a cathedral made of skulls

her mind is a catacomb

scarred by shovels and bombs

stroked by cockroaches and mice




with the two-step fibre-optic pheromone shuffle

of the dreaming children of formica  pieces of the broken beat

scattered all over town    and a weeping goddess desperately

           two blades                         gathering them

           one feather

                     floating on the Acheron


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