My mound was effectively to meet a poet

                                 with connections

High up in the food chain - that is a tad wicked

Of me i must admit    In any case i imagine

He would have sat right where you are sitting now    A

Maverick lump if ever there was one    “Evolution is creative

Not because”    “Do not believe in attention

That is not worth escaping    Gulping majesty”    “Of a white night

In lonely recesses of the maze who knows but that

I do not peel it away    Forcing myself

To look upon that which others merely recognize

And do not see    This atrocious hairpiece etc”    Go ahead

Snigger if it makes you feel better    But then ask yourself

What am i not

A turgid member of    Am i not every bit as fatally

Embrangled in these treacherous paraphernalia    Have i not

Myself on occasion found it rather cosy    All of us

Ghouls together    Giving life a bad name    Love

A bad reputation    Corpses

Their mysterious savour    Not that we literally devour them

These days    Any more than a housewife literally devours

The daytime soap    Impales herself with any splendid object

Brought down from the mantle    No    The fact is it simply

Never happens    What is more none would ever dream of it

Dunking a cream biscuit in a nice cup of tea

Which is permissable when alone in front of the television screen    I

Must insist you do not know her at all    Neither the frecklefaced

Lad out in the street aiming stones at an indistinct sky    In his

Own way alive to what gathers in the cracks of things    Yet distracted

For a moment by a distant bell ringing more slowly than is necessary