In Transit to Kandos #1 (for Melanie Khava, written Dec 2012)

The incredible vanity
of Pictish
culture its becoming-
death just the same
as Tex-Mex folklore

of skalds and skulls

Valorisaiton of vintage
and sage, rage sentiment
awash in feast
of desolate Germania
its seeds, lores and nomos

The world
so the say
has never been modern
yet pulses

In shimmering distinction
the musical switches
and Exchange boxes
of certain Romance cultures.

Obviously the Italian
Rococo slept
with death.
Hollywood makes
morbidity into comedy

where slick one-liners
cipher for intellect's
self-congratulation.

The change of men
who pause and women
wars on

a beach somewhere far
from the adulations
of necro-pyrotechnic
glamour is life
bios, ecos, quidium
the glacial sieges and
liberations, the partisans
of geo

Fuck Rock n Roll sometimes
and of course
he accepts the bedding
To string angry twine
age of iron pyrites
glimmer glance
the hot lance, lava
guitars, larval
distortion, easy fuck-
off sex as overdose
of potion

number #9

We are in transversity if
the burning spears fall
and soldiers smile
rosily at nephrite witches
when the war's called off

but they never went home.

And I bear message
of black orbit's soil
sweeped with capillaries
of bright complex phosphorus.