THE LAST POEM

After all you have done
from your children's wrens
to your false gods
made as bird bird
or into sons of suns
and saint Anselm
and Ambrose
rose in Chelm
after or in the name
of a saint's sinner
getting in before dinner
after Pound pounding
on his gnostic table of laws
slain into pieces of flesh
from Pisces, Osiris and Isis
as Cain and honorable Abel
before the foundation's pause
along the world's tablets
and capsules in space
shot down for small minds
in a cast of large egos
offering eggs in fires foot warmed
burnt down in crystal nights shame
the cries and sirens
will never cease
not until world peace
is declared and learnt by heart
and one child's life spared
in a creche
without any Assyrian piety
Arian heresy or false Aryan pity
and time will not go off message
in Einstein's able formula
others will try to escape
embedded in a Vatican's charisma
in hidden fifth columns
of art and gold stolen watches
from the night's black air
in the second World War
and sold to king Arthur's
highest bidder's on round tables
we are snared in our middle ages
and sold as maximum profit
from Marx's marks of middle ages
on the last few material pages
of a prophet smuggled from Vienna
Dr. Freud, the id has made us annoyed,
and what of all the make-up
vain imaginations,
walking by fourteen stations
having rations, rationale, miracles pale
before fake mirrors of green horses
on twenty centurions of Siena earth
ready to mount for the last stages
of crucifixion and extinction
before the last poem
is read over nine floors
over Dante's circle of hell
by the last unopened doors of bourse
a cry rages in the wind and fosse
of all who have sinned
in the cross roads,of course
through precepts and concepts
of their own geometry
symmetry and idolatry
adding up to spotted loss from load
from the dots of Morse code.