Where after all everywhere is the wherewithal
You must have something to twist the knife into
And so the fractured world
As if in compensation for its brokenness
Offers a wealth of orts and castoffs
Reconditionable into new life new food new bric-a-brac
Everybody knows the goat with tire at midriff
An icon as gay as a fur-lined cup
Or a paper stein from Burger King
Recordings on media unknown for eons
Words and pictures and garlands and silvery doodads
In the gutter and in the garbage
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Shall not be infringed
By Phoebus he that wandering knight so fair
Enough for all future comedies tragedies and satires

O adjectives
Would that all were so real
So qualitied
And so it is
Let there be luxe
Flying cape shooting gun strummed guitar
For strumming is not fashionable
Nor justifiably never was
The major and the minor ambiguous
In the blocky mass of sumptuous sound
An action painting with an unapologetic grin
For so the benighted crowd erring
Answers plenitude with cold austerity
And greets benefaction with renunciation
As it were deliverance to shun stubborn fragrant pleasure

And in the end the end is endless
For while growth and foliation continue to occur
And all entirety continues to decline
Into itty bitty pieces
Harmful in the trachea or the gills
But glittering trills in the auditory cortex
Mapped upon the flaring cochlea
And true rebuilding also obtains
Even as particles careen and ricochet
And forces blend in moiré ripples
But if you blur your vision a bit
Wobble your eyeballs out of alignment
You will see on the up escalator
In the attitude of wild contrapposto
One great hip unearthly elevated
Risking all in the moving tableau
The glowing image of callipygian Venus