JUST ONE ‘MAGOT’

Long, long her gold-expectancy, her
any, any moment making day.

And nets, the odds, an Oldsmobile
are capsulated, cold
like tides and
measures.

High, high her heel-suspendancy, her
hair so lady-like and lady lay.

Hail pets, the gods, a power peel
producing powers 'real'
like thighs pledge
pleasures.

Worms eat earth and in the
flesh breed flies on salt,
on saucers –
Chaucer-like.

Just one 'Magot', the crawling
snake-like liquorish loft kind:
Ness, Loch,
Behind…

Woo men, dirt and in the
womb sound cries from
walls on wonders –
Wordsworth-like.

Jus one 'Magot', the laughing
matter triggering shots kind:
glee, heart hedge,
Hawkins’ mind.

Haute, haute her legs uphill her,
seize the tune and
warm the clay.

Wuthering height’s treasures…

M.J.C.A. 13-04-2006