carnival – poems 2 die for

IN THE FLESH

here’s a feast
for the ages, for your fingere,
for your life, for
all times
for
your heart and soul

in the flesh
carved from
the bone my dear
carnivours
where all is sweetest

some thing left
for you to pick at
that is quite outrageous

panopolies of cauldrons
spawning
much smoke
and music

Hell crazy indeed
these mountain landscapes of food

full sausage processes
meet off-cuts of Heaven
meaning
all you can eat

but where
would carnival be
without its underworld

the darker whose secrets
liberation
     the sweeter
the taste
(and as much vice versa
as you are
willing
   to hear    as much
outright contradiction
as you came for today)
.
harvest, autumn
seeds and leaves
         all is in cycle
all
   rise
    must fall

precarious all this plunder that
speaks words
of wonder

whips up
pudding praise, storm
salad of words

buffet
smorgasbord
release
your inner Viking
dormant marauder

still spinning
what gives, is this
not
eternal engine simply
infinite machine?

those modernists of yore
clattering away, force-
feeding
their typewriters

fry
what is
deep frozen (deep
fry, twice
the ice fry in batter)

prove
food for thought as to
how revolutionary
one can be

meat of an idea full
of succulent goodness something
paid the price for

off cuts and fillet
what nestles close to
the heart
attached to
the bone

a sea of food rendered
an ocean of flavour

all that is sweet bitter sour
full savoury indeed

all in the garnish, style
of the spices

the street in your food
pushed to its class
limit
stretched to
haute cuisine

feel it
in your marrow as you
ride the wild rides
eat
the squid
counter the octopus

take
a last bite

drink your last sip

time left to cure and

let
the stew brew

the rich liqueurs percolate

here’s a feast
to

sink your teeth into

TROUBADOUR TOWN

we spent a day
and night
in
troubadour town

you
with your passable Italian
fiuenr French

and me
with smatterings
of Esperanto and
Provencal

rode every ride at the carnival
having
put our books down

feastimg on pizza and shwarmas
homemade beer and bread
tasty bake potatoea
and
much meat pies

and me a card-
carrying vegan before
this date
was less contrived

than magically
came about

and at
the day’s dizzy pinnacle
the death
dipper at its height

we wondered if this
were Heaven if
Heaven might
be real

then
plummeted (air
sucking the
screams
out of
our lungs

runaway trian on
crazy
tiny
track

full
roller-
coaster down

can sing
of our day in troubadour town

EXACTLY AT THIS POINT

left my mind
on the helter skelter

and you
first Dan, halfdan, third
Dan
whatever Dan you are

rollercoaster father
smirking sublimely
heavens of cloud
light and dark cloud
above me

and she
who I wanted, needed
so much at
that moment
MJM of the shapely legs
and thighs
crashing into me at top
speed perversely
has anyone ever
received such a thrilling smack
in a dodgem bumper car

and the theorists speculating
on the nature of carnival
hum
a good tune
talk a good liberation

and falling in line
(such a
ragged line)
with every compadre
of that persuasion

I wanted to
go guttural
get down and dirty
be
the sublime poet of
the sewer if only
for a brief
moment
outdoing the inimitable
Charles, universal stereotype
of this poet

Oh helter skelter
must be
a surreal repetition
to have
that guy Manson
sweep back
into fashion

and me
at the pinnacle of the
rollercoast exactly at
this point

SPRING CLEAN

wish I was young enough
and close enough geographically
to join you in
your protest encampment

a swatch of colour, a carnival
vibe, foregrounded against
the grey architectural
ersatz imitation of things
Athenian that marks
your alma mater’s
mode of academic being

the joy of community,
diversity
and alternate, far more
utopian
student perspectives

is not a thing to be tolerated
by a militaristic, utterly confused
and confounded, imperialistic regime
you just so happen
to call home

you are subjecting to a fantastic
targeted spring cleaning

throwing out the old
that you do not need
that all
too painfully
does not fit in