Ethereal Beauty #28

I'm still on the main deck,
Beaded snot (crying softly)
In rust beard which twitches
Aggressively against
Flapping pyjama sleeve
Like a robin in heat.
Gramophone stylus arms
Intervolve with washroom
Attendants and barbequed
Chickens on oiled spits.
I can’t separate images
And it troubles me that
It once troubled me
But no longer does.

I’ve seen all the glories:
Milton atop a forty-six
Thousand foot Bible
Reading "Lost" as
The fallen furnace-stoker
Tickled his gonads
While crouching behind
His burning bush;
My ethereal mothball
Drifting from closet
To bed to my funeral.

Malfeasance in a series
Of mawkish memoirs,
The authority of
A bingo-card distributor
In a hall of retired hens,
I expurgate all responses.

The sea’s whitecaps brief shocks
In dark grey tumours.