Flood Flame

 

 

 

Sub-deacon

Pulpit

 

Poultry yard

Cowlrath cries

 

Clean your pores

The bells ring

Man of sorrows

Dried with blood

Hark to the smart bell

In his cell

 

Tub-thumper

Shuttle-cock

Plump turtle doves

Mouths of truth

Flood of flesh

 

Wednesday meadow

Stream of callers

On the porch

Red wool

Around their arms

Salt up the nostrils

 

Multiply the loaves

Good to the spirit

To run hither and yon

Stiff in body

 

Collecting mud

From bath’s bottom

Scraping one another

With a strigil

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lash my ribs

Black liver

On the footstool

Bear malice

Like a mule

 

Graven like a wolf

Like horses neighing

At firm virgin

Pamper you flesh

Like as the mule

 

Steady heat

Craning necks

Hiccups

Moabites

Carmelites

 

Tinker toys float

In the holy water

Lofty cross

To the ages

And ages

Pulling down statues

In the teeth

Of a hostile bishop

 

 ©2001 Scopdom Scop

 

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