Member Poem

"say no to all the garden folk,
and beware, beware those pallid dregs
that find themselves in corners."

said he.

“spread yourself all over like a plague.
look down on all the garden folk. say no, say no,”

said he: “say no.” 

“catch the ashes on your tongue,” said he
“and laugh. take your penance-piece of wine and speak
of them – say no. say no. say you're sorry.
say no to all the folk of loam when they turn their sooty hands
up, their arteries embossed like worms –
glistening brown and fully stocked with forfeit!

oh…” said he. “there cannot be a care
for bronze in fall or falling from your stride
into a puddle – a reflection that will dry so that
we can look back down again!”

and he took his penance-piece of wine
and drank with all the might of empires.

“oh,” said he then:

“she was lavish.”