Shaxpur (R1)

I wish you'd been a masticated,
Live-chewn pup to a pulpy knob, ground
As flesh as the dirt, striated like strips
Of salt-beef spread for the wind to dry,
To stale in the sun; I wish

You only were a smattering of crusts
Pecked at by birds, a vat of noxious slime
Trod by the grimy feet of menstruating
Virgins, fouled in their pulpy brines
With anxious blood. If only your brain
Were a quivering mass of jelly,
Something alight in its fumes
Before it could ever exist...

Instead you, who seem to have cupped your strain
By Massic streams, intoxicate mens' minds
With bruit noise that terrifies even my
Peaceful heart. You howled with the bays
And the curs, probably fired-off and beer-frothed
A thousand folds of crafty verse, straining your neck
With every necessary step. Sheer humour
That you were a man and walked beside us, tragic
That you could exhale the sky and blot out the lucent
Way to death like a vengeful, unwilling god.

Shaxpur

I wish you were a masticated beast
Live-chewn to a pulpy knob, ground
As fresh as the dirt, striated like strips
Of salt beef spread for the wind to dry,
To stale in the sun: I wish

You were a smattering of crusts
Pecked at by birds, a vat of noxious slime
Trod by the grimy feet of menstruating
Virgins, fouled in the pulpy brine
With anxious blood. I wish your brain
Were a quivering mass of tottering, blathering
Jelly, something alight in smoke
Before it could ever exist.

Instead you seem to have cupped your strain
By Massic streams, intoxicate mens' minds
With bruits that terrify even my
Peaceful heart. You howled with the bays
And the curs, probably puffed up and beer-frothed
A thousand-fold of crafty verse, straining your neck
With every necessary step. The sheer comedy,
You were a man, and walked among us, tragic
That you could breathe the sky and blot out the lucent
Way to death like a vengeful and unwilling god.