31 Henry's Muse
by the Providence River
The river drowses like a flickering sword,
on past infinite farmyards gone to seed, a lamp
in a prairie palm meadows & towns loud
wail of a long-gone train (Transcontinental Tramp).
Anoint me with the oil of your guttering candle,
London, for my mint is pennyroyal, &
my royal headache's eased now-- but I'm seeing double--
& blood will flush the curtained chamber of Jerusalem.
Shall I place it on my head? I'm cold
in this coin of a bowling broken realm.
I'd put an arm across your shoulder, gal--
in the sceptred greenhouse-- should I be so bold?
It's you, O green-eyed National Velvet at the helm--
Empress my soul now, for my mint is pennyroyal
Henry Gould | Island Road 32
Contents | Mudlark No. 6