Notoriety’s fried eggs and bacon

A pretender in verbals, a bravo saluting his mouth

A poet’s refrain sings of capital gains, his best shout

A haul of esteem from that I’m special dream,

Hits the strings

No numbers but issue with incident haloes and

Goodfellow tambourines

Insistently shaken cymbals

This Parnassus panache is all cooking with gas and move-over

In a sainted creative marketplace

It’s a barge-in machine, a succession of *look**-at-me *sallies

Process wrapped in technique – rare replete,

Excitations of ‘breakthrough’

Routine

One gun goes handshaking and making interrogation

Of other bad actors at faking,

And sweet moneymaking pertains

Constructing with bluster some saleable hot air balloons

Pushing contesting protesting arresting consumerist

Instant heirlooms

Bartered seashells and cowbells, as if like were sun dried tomatoes

To shift; alters states, makes affections take action, engage

An elective effete

And all is a ball, futurehoods are beguiled, the takings

Form deposits, are holdings, bankrolls which dissever a soul

From all badly-bruised truth overtaken

This recherché commercial inversion of transcendent value

                                           \*

The carver of bosses and intricate crosses is competent master

Pares perfections so high, insignificant flies only find them

Above established glad-eyes for the hire, in skies in inquisitive detail;

Here petitions to God of intrinsically wholehearted offering

Of love as wooden angels

An humdinger rendering of praise; the sad Saviour impales

This bursted big heart

Exploded upon some seductive reredos or cornice

Spilt as ichors of love-blood inditing, and waiting on worship

All’s petitions, submissions, no clever red ribbons

No clover supposed as returns

And a name is a mark in the dark; furthermore, does not blazon

Nor’s no flush about me, and *my latest entrée *andoccasion

No splurge which would publish, establish, a rag reputation

Unspoken the spell of this alms-giving stands left unbroken

High up in a roof tree where hides as a proof of a fealty

A prayer in an old oaken beam, an orison arrayed

All unlike as we are, wanting fast caviar,

Notoriety’s fried eggs and bacon

A pretender in verbals, a bravo saluting his mouth

A poet’s refrain sings of capital gains, his best shout

A haul of esteem from that I’m special dream,

Hits the strings

No numbers but issue with incident haloes and

Goodfellow tambourines

Insistently shaken cymbals