TO VINCENT.
You did not love the sceptred sunshine
You loved the summer’s undiluted sun
Which in the end took its bitter revenge
In depriving you of your saline serenity
Into the depths of crazed pivoted symphony.
Rest assured in your diverted quickened steps
That nobody loved the soul within your crest
The crazed straw hat topping your yellow hair
Your red beard drenched in the crowds, a fear
It was enough to drive the crazy sickened mob
For a revenge on your enflamed tortured throb.
Children will mock you
Citizen will lock you
Women will scorn you
People will disown you.
Dawning clouds and rustling winds
Broken strokes of the lemon rinds
Vermillioned lamps amid ochred yellows
Cobalt blues of the sulphured mellows
Embittered flowers in the wasted vase
Vibratory landscapes in twisted grass
Pavement cafes under the starry skies
Purpled deeds in hallucinatory nights.
With colour and the light
And amid a creative start
An explosion within your soul
And a bullet in your heart.
