Against Debasement
by and published in Edition Four of Pomegranate
L ≠ A & so on & so forth & so what (?)
they never really seem to tell you is that
the tight thread of flesh is still extant. I make
the sounds with my mouth; they are index-linked
& neuroanatomical & “… words are only an eye
-twitch away from the things they stand for …”
& but now there’s nothing so electrically baroque,
so pow’rful to stir the apt synaptic pitch,
as my inflatable clavichord, the 17th century
of my mind, anterior to all examination(s).
& so even the spirit, the foundational flint
of triple-distilled A Levels & underground books
(Sous les pavés, la bibliotheque!)
is enough to subsist. I applied for English lit
up & incandescent & it hasn’t arrived.
T.H.X Fidelity
T.H.X. Fidelity has lived for two years in Rotterdam, NL & for sixteen in England, primarily in the agro-industrial centre of Suffolk. If he can concentrate less on writing poems & more on mediaeval semiotics, he will be going up to Oxford in October to read English.