if i can read with sympathy and empathy,
it can only translate into: when reading my
own bits & bobs i’m an executioner -
with my work being charles I -
but that’s relevant, i can’t be a one-man
stalking sycophantic groupie,
and for whatever criticism comes my way
i know the price of the maxim:
true virtue is unafraid of criticism,
oddly enough because it is already overly self-critical -
e.g.? the peacock and the encyclopaedic content
of the cantos of ezra pound almost desires to
be sung and not squared-up to be relevant,
given that in the majority of life’s canvases
the privacy of such thinking is for the reclusive readership
allowance, that might undermine all
reckless speeches that either slither through the amassed
audience like an electric serpent to stage a furore,
or simply attract ridicule and dispersion
with a joke’s punchline drum roll - tu dum tss.