Railway and other
securities Suddenly
he remembers how his mother
told him he was a seven month’s child
—thing of etherial circulation—
wrapped in wadding somewhat
green-seeming as an untimely apple
And Exodus feels cold
with sympathy for that cold thing
that was himself — — —
The London dusk
wraps up the aborted entity
heeding Solomon’s admonishing spends
circumcised circumspect
his evenings doing lightning calculations
for his high pleasure Painting — — —
feeling his pulse — — —
Incorporeal express trains
from opposite directions
of unequal lengths and velocities
flash through his abstract eye
determines instantly the time
to a decimal fraction of a second
they take to pass each other
Under his ivory hands
his sunflowers sunwards
glow confuse with itinerant
Judaic eyes peering
through narrow-slim entrance-arches
The terrestrial trees shades
virgin bosoms and blossoms
in course of his acclimatization
a hedge-rose — — — —
He paints
He feels his pulse
The spiritual tentacles of vanity
that each puts out towards the culture
of his epoch knowing not how to find
and finding not contact he has repealed
to fumble among his guts
The only
personal reality
he brought from Hungary he takes
to Harley street where medicine
sits the only social science applied to the outsider
The parasite attaches to the English Rose
— — — — — at a guinea a visit
— becomes more tangible to himself the exile
mechanism he learns is built
to the same osseous structure shares
identical phenomena with those
populating the Island
that segregated
from his apprehension moves
a universe of unceasing
energies for the biological
explorer’s introspection
His body
becomes the target of his speculation
His brain ravenous for informative food
spins cobwebs on the only available
branching out of facts
clings to the visceral
items he has heard mentioned
until they ache
under mesmeric concentration
Exodus discovers his nerves
as once Mankind
in pathological mysticism believed
itself to have discovered
its soul
David’s daughter’s doweries
and olive-eyes
virgins capitalized
to tantalize!
Jehovah’s tailor
sets up in business for himself
however
Some queer
marital independence on the English air
keeping him bachelor
While through
stock quotations
and Latin prescriptions
for physic
filters the lyric
aroma of the rose
Exodus knows
no longer father
or brother
or the God of the Jews,
it is his to choose
finance or
romance of the rose
English Rose
Early English everlasting
quadrate Rose
paradox—Imperial
trimmed with some travestied flesh
tinted with bloodless duties dewed
with Lipton’s teas
and grimed with crack-packed
herd-housing
petalling
the prim gilt
penetralia
of a lustre scioned
core-crown;
Rose of arrested impulses
self pruned
of the primordial attributes
— A tepid heart inhibiting
with tactful terrorism
the (Blossom) Populous
to mystic incest with its ancestry
establishing
by the divine right of self assertion
the post-conceptual
virginity of Nature
Wiping
its pink paralysis
across the dawn of reason
A World-blush
glowing from
a never-setting-sun
Conservative Rose
storage
of British Empire-made pot-pourri
of dry dead men making a sweetened smell
among a shrivelled collectivity
Which august dust
stirred by
the trouser-striped prongs of statesmanship
(whenever politic)
rises upon the puff of press alarm
and whirling itself
deliriously around the unseen
Bolshevik subsides
in ashy circularity
“a wreath” upon the unknown
soldier’s grave
And Jehovah strikes,
through the fetish
of the island hedges,
Exodus
who on his holiday
(induced
by the insiduous pink
of Albion’s ideal)
is looking for a rose
And the rose
rises
from the green
of a green lane
rosily-stubborn
and robustly round
— — — — —
Under a pink print
sunbonnet
the village maid
scowls at the heathen
Albion
in female form
salutes the alien Exodus
staring so hard—
warms his nostalgia
on her belligerent innocence
— — The maidenhead
drooping her lid
and pouting of her breast
— — forewarns
his amity
— — — — —
Amorphous meeting
in the month of May
— — — — —
This Hebrew
culled by Cupid on a thorn
of the rose
lays siege
to the thick hedgerows
where she blows
on Christian Sundays
She
simpering in her
ideological pink
He
loaded with Mosaic
passions that amass
like money
implores her to take pity
upon him
and come and be a “lady in the City”
Maiden emotions
bread
on leaves of novels
where anatomical man
has no notion
of offering other than the bended knee
to femininity
and purity
passes in pleasant ways
as the cows graze—
For in those days
when Exodus courted the rose
literature was supposed to elevate us
So the maid with puffy
bosom where Jerusalem
dreams to ease
his head of calculations
in the Zero of ecstasy
and a little huffy
bristles with chastity
For this is the last Judgment
when Jehovah
roars “Open your mouth!
and I will tell you what you have been reading”
Exodus had been reading
Proverbs
making sharp distinction
between the harlot
and the Hausfrau arraying
her offspring in scarlet
approving
such as garner good advice like grain
and such as know enough
to come in from the rain — —
The would-be
secessionist from Israel’s etiquette
(shielding pliant Jewesses from shame
less glances
And the giving
of just percentages
to matrimonial intermediaries)
is spiritually intrigued
by the Anglo-Saxon phenomenon
of Virginity
delightfully
on its own defensive!
This pouting
pearl beyond price
flouting
the male pretentions
to its impervious surface
Alice the gentile
Exodus the jew
after a few
feverish tiffs
and reparations
chiefly conveyed in exclamations
— — a means of expression
modified by lack of experience
unite their variance
in marriage
Exodus
Oriental
mad to melt
with something softer than himself
clasps with soothing pledges
his wild rose of the hedges
While she
expecting
the presented knee
of chivalry
repells
the sub-umbilical mystery
of his husbandry
— hysterically
His passionate anticipation
of warming in his arms
his rose to a maturer colouration
which was all of aspiration
the grating upon civilization
of his sensitive organism
had left him
splinters upon an adamite
opposition
of nerves like stalactites
This dying chastity
had rendered up no soul — — —
Yet they pursued their congugal
dilemmas as is usual
with people
who know not what they do
but know that what they do
— — is not illegal
Deep in the nevrose
night he
peruses this body
divested of its upholstery
firmly insensitive
in mimicry
of its hypothetical model
a petal
of the English rose
An abstracted Ada
in myopic contemplation
of the incontemplatable
compound rosette
of peerless negations
That like other Gods
has never appeared
leaving itself to be inferred
Whereof
it is not seemly
that the one petal
shall apprehend
of the other petals
their conformity
For of this Rose
— wherever it blows
it is certain
that an impenetrable pink curtain
hangs between it and itself
And in metaphysical vagrance
it passes beyond the ken
of men
unless
possessed
of exorbitant incomes
And Then—
merely indicating its presence
by an exotic fragrance
A rose
—that like religions
before
becoming amateur—
enwraps itself
in esoteric
and exoteric
dimensions
the official
and inofficial
social morale
The outer
classes
accepting the official
of the inner — — —
as a plausible
gymnastic
for disciplining the inofficial
“flesh and the devil”
to the ap parent impecca bility
of the Eng — — —
— — — and for
Empire
what form could be superior
to the super-imposed
slivers
of the rose?
The best
is this compressed
all round-and-about—
itself conformation
Never letting out
subliminal infection
from hiatuses
in its sub-roseal skeleton
Its petals hung
with tongues
that under the supervision
of the Board of Education
may never sing in concert — —
for some
singing h
flat and some
h sharp “The Arch
angels sing H”
There reigns a disproportionate
dis’armony
in the English Hanthem
And for further information
re the Rose—
and what it does to the nose
while smelling it
— — See Punch
Mongrel Rose
Ada Gives Birth to Ova
Her face
screwed to the mimic-salacious
grotesquerie of a pain
larger than her intellect
— — — — They pull
A clotty bulk of bifurcate fat
out of her loins
to lie
for a period while performing hands
pour lactoid liquids through
and then mop up beneath it
their golden residue
A breathing baby
mystero-chemico Nemesis
of obscure attractions
(The incontinent
exudes into involuntary
retention
Uncouth conception of the incalculable)
The isolate consciousness
projected from back of time and space
pacing its padded cell
The soul
apprenticed to the butcher business
offers organic wares
to sensibility
A dim inheritor
of this undeniable flesh
The destinies
Genii
of traditional
Israel and of Albion
push on its ominous pillow
its racial birth-rights
(Curses for baby
from its godmothers)
— — — — —
Till the least godmother
pipes — — — in her fairy way
“Perhaps you know my name
— — Survival?
Curse till the cows come home
Behold my gift
The Jewish brain!”
So is the mystic absolute
the rose
that grows
from the red flowing
from the flank of Christ
thorned with the computations
of the old
Jehovah’s gender
Where Jesus of Nazareth
becomes one-piece
with Judas Iscariot
in this composite
Anglo-Israelite
Out of a fatted frown
this spirit pokes its eyes
its star tipped handy-pandies
darting on the
