Theopolis in the Court of the High King (Extremely Rough Version)

THEOPOLIS IN THE COURT OF THE HIGH KING

I was in for a good lay
By way of Matilda
And the forest, the thought of
Bumping about in whatnot bushes and ferns
The only thing that “does it,”
it being a long time since I’d done
anything.

But them woods did not put out
them flames, and them twenty minutes spent
fruitless searching for my lazy eyeful
garbled me, and all was not good.

I was mistaken, then,
Bamboozling my way
Keenly past said honeypots,
Your wells and thickets
Drolled up to look like
Wells and thickets.

Staying was
Unexpected. I sucked on
Zero pomegranates, planned no
magpie assimilation
Slowly or with a rapid hup-hup
and jump to it, did not conjecture
nothing.

It was whimsy what beat me
no dreams of hunting, but
horny hurt and
bored among woodland creatures
I was content to plod after
some shiftless doe
albinism struck
not particularly fast.

And when your dogs found me
Luckless facedown in the lake
I was brought here, as if my criminal hands had crinkled
Bones and crunkled rim wits to the edge. I admit, I walked
Them three miles, and I tempted that deer
a handful of seed
some slow creeping steps
and if she had come close I would have
maybe bashed this or shamed her ups
the head, pluct sinew from teeth and been a general terror
for the sake of a sad man, or anything comes up, but there was
no waiting or walking, I watch that hind split and rise, it goes by.

these days I walk through the forest and I am the absence
of anything the forest wants, I am set with jewels
in the shape of my teeth
and hands legs offset anything hair and twitchy smile
a line of hairs that surprise and disappoint
warning Noli me tangere to a universe
which learns Latin
just for this.