last swan of avon

socalled swan of avon
n/t but a beaurocrat
buggering the buttercups
goy from the waist up
 
now soldiers’re the ones making offers
and fucking caravaggio posters
maybe the artist had bothered about melancholia
 
suddenly xe finds xemself walking down
some dark corridor
 
california was truly the promised land
for a minute there
video marlboro
to show us
 
shoppingcart in dingy water
and then turn melancholical
 
sign reads no squatting
switchd on the cathode ray
at yr coronation
 
the bomb droppd w/ regular monotony
leaving us wanting
 
         a to zed
dampened a grid
 
satyrical deliria
pan’s baallet
in a black tutu
 
who have the inclination
but even whose    necromancer—
firelit but dred—
—commandeering meadows—
protests were pathetic
Julian T. Brolaski, "last swan of avon" from gowanus atropolis. Copyright © 2011 by Julian T. Brolaski.  Reprinted by permission of Ugly Duckling Presse.
Source: gowanus atropolis (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2011)
More Poems by Julian Talamantez Brolaski