Auto Da Fe

With bells ringing

    and people meddling;

and children around a bonfire



a pocket full of squalor.

Of all the aphrodisias of the all worlds

to make this final vision

not in amorosa but in the incincerator.

That pup is now a green eyed beast:

upon my mouth,

  sits some sunlit fantasy

upon some sunlit breast;

now we find a shower of heat

   through the soles of our feet;

it burns a hole in our head

and when our brains shall be burnt,

        we shall be ate;

and our ashes lie around a blackened stump

      to survey mysterious skies, deadened:

           the sparkle that went out with that fire

             we glimpse in far away star

          called Eden.

Once we descended with pride, 

now we are in free fall like a dying meteor.

 “Dollarisma, Serenissima”

   is the princely constellation

    of which we are victim,

as every particle of what is left

  makes a journey into nursery rhyme.

And those who believe in eternal life

have only the glare of publicity

  with which to light their path;

and the friendship of a cancerous dog

with which to howl into the night.

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