Breathe me like an orange.

Every little tap 

Every turning screw 

Pushes further back 

On the golden plume 

Cf the wind of fortune 

Blowing down the trees 

Abandonment cavorts in pools 

Of dearth as dead as winter 

Reap her pleas 

Put them in a locket 

Take your ease 

chisel my socket 

Golly gosh o fie

There's a thing of wonder 

Look at these hieroglyphics

Look at them with your glass 

Look at them if you please 

Align them with theodolites 

Level them like bubbles

Swim in their mystery 

Their energies are subtle 

Flowers of history 

Decipher my inflammation 

Breathe me like an orange  

There's no explanation 

Gilded splashes of feign 

Who knows what they mean 

Or from whence they came 

Maybe PG Wodehouse

He's a brainy cove

Maybe it's because he's 

An aristocratic chap 

A jolly good fellow at that 

Highly tuned etcetera 

By Jove he could cobble 

A sentence 

He does it for money 

To make you laugh

Isn't it incredible 

Let's thank him profusely 

So why do I scribble graffiti 

Is it because I'm tapped 

It's all intentional really 

Though apparently it's absurd

I dunno if you believe me 

But I don't understand a word

Every little dot

Every squirmy comma

Gives a little burst

In the palace of pleasure

Does a piece of lace  

Intricate and light 

Have an explanation 

If you wring her modest pip 

Will she bray you 

Donkey tresses 

Exult your fraught 

And latent consternation?

Golly gosh o fie

There's a thing of wonder 

Gilded splashes of feign 

Who knows what they mean 

Or from whence they came 

Decipher my inflammation 

Breathe me like an orange.

2018..