E L E G Y

Lizard, United Kingdom. The most southern point of the United Kingdom and a great place of natural beauty. This elegy is dedicated to the Cornish coast, the south west of England, and the great Atlantic.

I

Karl York II

Old father Praise be Please sir Remain thee.

Old father Arson sweet Please sir Bless me.

Holy desire, a black winged unicorn Black, then green, then green, then white These signs tell me to go back But green turns green and I know what that means.

Colours they fold into the fold, They belong to me. When red turns red I burn thee.

God’s aspiration Beneath me

The holy spirit Receives me.

White turns red, red turns red, red is me. Obsessive about life

A new thirst Grips me.

Grips onto desire, Onto life

This planet I begin a strife.

Iii

A new diet I thirst I seek Human flesh

A new diet Paves the way Maybe all life Instead.

A new world I can escape to God’s own desire A candle I blew.

I wonder why They don’t fear me

I’m a saint Passion, hot, free.

So I’ll keep on burning

Eating and ravaging

They will come to mourning

On my grinning winning.

Iv

I met a traveller from an antique land but he had nothing to say no words to bear, no lives to spare. He looked down at me feverously talked me down incredulously, stick-wounded me insidiously

In his eyes I saw grey spheres Shakespeare’s tears a dozen-dead men millions of dead-end careers.

In his nose I smelt the deep, warm, humid, decaying, dying corpse.

Anorexia-inducing noise of a bottle of Eau de Cologne from some brand I only saw on boys. Toys, joys, appear, then hoise. White Noise.

That old traveller was a drunkard, a joke undeserving, unknowing, unattentive and then a gun smoke.

That old traveller, desperate and sad, walked past me to a new, antique land.

V An ascension an ending life ahead pending a new world dimension

We regenerate. We heal. We plan a meal.

Old dictators gone. Life anew. A blue-sun coup. A green yawn.

Old father thank thee. Please sir accept we.

Old father good night to you

Please sir