sugar my life divine
bring in the fragrance
the shine I pine for ...
My excitement
when Im your slice
Embrace my form simple nice
Taste the spice of my complex side
mesmerized see me rise
Divert your glance slightly humble
so you don't see my batter crumble
I accept you'll cut your ample stake
A hail of icing is such sweet fate
Heat and taste is oven baked
Don't leave me here on the plate
fresh and hot I'm your cake
We had crashed the comby van into the small creek
One of thiose creeks that used to be a river
Now it was just a trickle
stones followed the thin strip of water
Big banks of clay on either side
As if expecting some random flash flood to erupt
Clumsy handed over the empty food container
I filled it up with what I had int he front seat
It wasn't good enough for him so he threw it out
The little food we had left now thrown by clumsy
Who had mistakened himself for authority
But like quirky was just a slave of daily failure
Looking for straight lines on a round earth
So we all went hungry and resentful
Didn't take me long until I abandoned them there
And made myself tot he green rolling banks
Smiling I was closer to the grand river itself
No one saw my journey but it was rough and lonely
Now I was building a house on the hill above the river
Where there was abundant food and river water
Compared to the trickle I crashed into years ago
First one landed, east end stretch, cold summer day
Unrecognizable face, washed up swollen and gray
On the littered and pebbled vacant slipway
the smell of algae and sour decay
Another washes up hours later
A labourer lost footing body floating on Thames shoulder
The tower bridge in construction, a riveter, a scaffolder
Or maybe even a drunken steeplejack
Yet they appeared, slipways, embankments and dikes
Mutilated by hulking aggressive Thames river Pike
If the rats arrived before constable weary-
plainly the body would prove less heavy
One arrived and lay purple and pink on a mudbank
A solitary crow axed with it's beak, thud thud thud
Raised it's head to check for other crows and gulls...
Back to flesh, jackhammering through a lifeless skull
A slight tremble in the crow's neck became evident-
as mitten crabs encroached to hide under the bloat lifting
The stench of it all hit the constable in the rickety skiff
He cursed, and the jet black crow flew off replaced by a gull
Gull grey and white, beady and bold pecked once to stir it
Raised its beak full of carrion to approve the trapped spirit
that a nearby resident angel might swoop down and liberate it
Inquest officer marvelled at steam emitting from the body
The stubborn gull refused to flee...
Toward a shipmast looked, where an angel sat nodding
Emotions are the cause of the world
I went through the door almost fell
with permission without flaunting
I got everything I was wanting
I was after flavor and connection
I wanted to feel all I had selected
passion and hunger that never abates
That I had carried around for decades
I aimed and entered unafraid
Went through air claps and sings
I become what I was practicing
The ultimate phenomena of existence
I recognized myself in the persistance
Thus further in delved to no end
Who I became when out I was sent
Well I became a creator legend
Back at the homestead his wives were working the vegetable garden
cooking in the kitchen and commenting about the daily tasks
everything was being talked about at the same time
Gareth was a quiet man he had no time for chit chat
However he still felt obligated to regard and ask after each one
perhaps it was the downside to such an incredible summer
Early abundant harvests with just enough time to replant
In scotland such a thing was unknown
maybe this was what attracted the bandits brazen
Knowing the local markets biggest provider was Gareth's homestead
They must have cunniongly followed him back after market end
Then set their trap the very next day
Not knowing Gareth would not be bullied or manipulated
No Gareth would put the two men in early graves
Hiding it all from the prying eyes of his six wives
Only his servant would know
Gareth raised his rifle, the local riff raff were not leaving
He pulled the trigger one of the threatening men fell
The bullet tearing the arm from the shoulder brilliantly
The surviving bandit pleaded- it's just we have no money!
The bandits had planned to kill Gareth and his family
So he chopped him through with the axe ignoring the scream
He started digging the hole where they would be laid
One of his servants came upon the scene pale and affected
Gareth places the spade in his hands and went to procure dirt
That late morning had been confusing, killing was traumatic
The pines and blue sky seemed to collide in the momentary heat
That micro climate in his valley where temperatures could rise
The stark scent of pine gum and gun powder under summer sun
concocted a holy scene
Not the righteousness of one man who had strong faith
Vengence is a kind of sin it is suppposed
But as if destiny had arrived for the two bandits
And God simply rented Gareth for the day
To put the two down forever
In that peaceful valley
I find the castle and in turn the smaller homestead we occupy
The castle is seven storeys high, ot its first floor an opened plan cafe
Breakfast for the many guests who are accomodated there
On the elbow of the river and the ancient road
My homestead is called The dog
Bandits have died there
scratching out a living
From the climbers
Underestimating their resolve
The homestead represents sacred ground
Where families might tame the land
dig and build where noone else dared
Then bury the bandits who swoop in
Fertilize the gardens with their corpses
Allow their lives to have meaning
As they rot under the roots of our organic produce
