goodland moi nomen robbing deceit of fist slip in the run up to poetical
spacerhood within, and i took the liberties of chopping and changing your
text, using it as the seed text for a piece in which it's current form will
occupy that space i immediately apprehended you are on about, the druidic
rann iposted the other day, the ral thing and a chance find, but has since
opened amazingly spacey ways of composition, seeing thsat very few hold the
knowledge i do, in the four spheres and genral understanding on=f ones
native mythic lore at deepest and most un-quotidian valency, rationed wisdom
is with genius incisible inless yer ear's hanging off after an accident with
the razor of near lunacy carried to a natural conclusional slef harm final
of you, the razor and mirror, phwoar..thanks uneeded, unblicking and
windiest yet, let me entertain the druids in one nemeton and read the sun
and let clouds move my pen to respond as often as one does, capability for
poetic utterance in noughtie wo/men is only now here, hogwarth is dead, long
live kind des, ha ha!! make me your leader now or else everyone gets pulped
here and bleddy now!! i want to to stick yer head in the oven or tape up in
the volvo and turn on babbie, call me mr boss ms, or the bunnie gets of
naturak causes, yer don't fool me wiv yer fey faer fairly fair ways
actually, randomly accord in the mix of blather we laughably off as proof od
whatever it is we bore one another pretending to do. Only i said de facto
des, can have it so carlos doe moi cold willimas a maestro and i treat
isolatimagine lives

lord the dance a prince of darkness.
storming the Winter Palace an evening
news. god small is the devil in detail.
The top of the morning is the bottom
barrel. The old man and sea is rising.
Heart of dead darkness is light skin
 
the start of something beautiful
ended an affair. The mist of time
fog of war. invisible man manifest
destiny. wild Coole swan, flight
fancy a few earl grey lore of polite competition in the goidelic tradition,
sweary is the truth in cork talking it, the real poetry and gift only she
possesses as irelands funniest swearing lady i abdicated for..motined here
to save a dream, me first and sod the bedivil, darn them sods, forget the
robbing gits nicking nowt from my fantasy of mythical lore from four cycles,
mainly prose conversation the natural vehicle for its expression as kuno
meyer told me and saved a slof, for it is only in the stories we docover
verse is only spoken by hero and Muse, so the tragedy is of a hgigh baroque
blow of shudder and natural oufacement, the utter gentlemen to watch slip
and skate on page, let me be your leader, i demand to star as natural nicest
newbie with only love and poem lore to bring to our demo, love-in is it
sailor, sure i was with rosa on the bus in montgomery and parked on me arse
lying down in defiance with john, ok oy, wots yer beef butchie, wuffta up
bottom lovers, you fail i win, get on the donkie and puff up a pnies ass coz
c'mon ratz shat on aul bone bag and dragged down the glue factory to
reconstitute what it meant to live beyond death as adhesive, lots of raw
fact and dabble, buried beneath the rustle abd threat of true faith
expressed as poetry, be Love.

the eternal feminine.
call wild is the cry
of the loonie handful

of dust in a fistful
hollars worm in bud
the fruit of labours
land of free death
dream kingdom, narrow
road deep to north is
M1 proof pudding man
meat fly on wall
pattern the carpet
genie in the machine
ghost out of bottle.