Gilded Revolt

In the debut gleefully goldenly

landed in the lap of luxury

a Patrician class is always problematic:

[gilden] AGE slept

not slept, moved

but hypnotized

and REVOLUTION leapt

Une femme enceinte

But ingénue and debutante

with fruits developed from

stardust pregnancy

as much so as the tree developed

from stardust:

figure-headed in vestibules

privacies in boudoirs—

gloated feral from the first

this was the new heir.

POPULATION.

The August Ones

or the People.

They are the luminosities,

the shining ones,

brief as fireflies

densities, the populations’

light-pollution’s

looting:

crowds and singularities

REVOLUTION

mourning tartine une femme enfantine

astonished by a childish taste

[for cake] brought back to a memory

playtoy jouxjoux dreamt up at teatime

in cradled boudoir crinkle of bonbons

comme le pauvre dauphin bleu

rose marble cake contest

de marie-antoinette

AKA La Chienne d’Autriche:

rose bubblegum in the

pink marble vein

village pleasure-place

children’s village

let them chew bubblegum

lieu de plaisir, aire de loisir

philosophical even

The Baroness of Aulnoy

sometimes referred to as

the Prawn Fairy

wrote some of the craziest

wildest fairy tales you’ll read.

C’est le coeur du garçon

conservé dans une bouteille...

REVOLUTION

mais alors chez les viennois

mozart moments such temerity

we all know that despite appearances

there are feral ombres...

SHADES N SHADOWS

L’Autruche de Vienne

like an indulgent smile

enchanted and delicate

plays its politic

the wood of the harpsichord

can hardly barely be seen

encased in bright couches of gold

wise in trickery polytropical

CELLO BURNISH ON BRASS

WOODWORK it’s just

Icing on the cake

(so we call it)

pour proletariat at their anvil molds

poor slaves of the Court

or slaves of the System

chorus of the subjugated

winding around gilded ages

hysterically organizing possibilities

in gardens midst fountains

finding buddhic calm in

deep pastels.

I just needed

a place to escape to.

The Bitch of Austria

and the Ostrich of Vienna

got together

to hear some music

in which

there were too many notes

for the mind to follow

doorways and stairwells

vestibules and boudoirs

corridors corridors and corridors

they were longing pining bored marvelous

Deathhead Ennui does a widemouthd yawn:

one cunning day marx will come

cuttingly

and we shall be robespierre’s

jeffersonian democrats

hunted by a new kind of patrician.

and the dolphin’s heart

will be conserved in a bottle