Book of Isaac, The. Aidan Semmens
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seem to recognise that part of the workers
a parable is told of warring tribes:
here it is, finally got here, the best flour!
ah, pessimist, you do not know the people
for the passéists between we, great Apollo
we threw downward from tsar & kow-tow to these
number me the things that have not yet been
at 3.15 soldiers, investigators & officials
pursuant to the instructions of Superintendent Offley
there are differences between countries in the world of multiple classes
I no longer believe in the accuracy of my own
greasy light of the cellar steps, sweat
at last it has come to this: bread, dust, the artillery
there is the cool consolation where as for me
but as the flesh fell from his face
blindly believing concrete truths, absolute & release
never rise the dreamers on desires of the fathers
that she came to me in my captivity
each morning I go down to breakfast hoping
it is not breaks the second instruction
long noble massage of hands brow
the bone is pulled out, the eye which is dented atrophies,
& when I had made an end of speaking these words
this Esdras went up from Babylon as a scribe
& they feasted with instruments of music & of gladness
& roasted the Passover with fire as appertaineth
& such a Passover was not kept in Israel since
the time of the prophet Samuel; as for the house
of the Lord they burnt it, & brake down the walls of Jerusalem
& set fire upon her towers, now if this city
& the walls thereof be re-made they will also rebel
against kings for ye have defiled your hands with blood
the evil is sown but the destruction is not yet come
& we are not better than they that there did die
they that dwell upon the earth may understand nothing
& as for the truth it endureth as is always strong
for the world has lost his youth & the times wax old
bent writing, assiduous pen in hand,
beard unknowing as mine, a man
dead decades before underlies
by one eighth my genesis
in a twilight era from rabbinical composition
under secular thought logic
to weigh the weight of fire
pioneer of mill-ground clothworkers
farmers in a barrier of road escape
from hard land sweaty life, heretic
suffers no holy writ gladly
in vernacular of old places, the family left
to control of the secret police & he returns
pose, the unknowable, Minsk 1907
radicalism is not your mistake
your tub is a poison & the stink of later
is very deep dark & all unseen
the name of a flower is the name
of something else, respected citizens
First Guild merchant of