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i n s p i r a t i o n
for Gerard de Nerval
white fingers at the latch of cripplegate
rub bone against the gallows' catch
a clockface staring from the stocks
as never's ropehand rings the church bell
where we follow with a blinded tongue
the brailleblack bible of the stone
& how the rope twists counterwise thirteen
& how the windpipe pipes the sweetest tune
& how the merry barrel-organ wheezes on in time
till utterly & utterly
the song syringe lies broken
in the cold black gutter of the vein.
till hard in death's impassive face
the hung man's end ejaculates
one spray of glitter, dust & ground-up pills
while all the time a last oration for the living
rings like starlight thru the upper window
& vibrates the christmas lamps, like bells
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