hard pyre and nineteenth century values
a spelled Egyptian king comes to catch the faking life
no it is a shadow
yes its paint
below pharaoh his gods were snakes
poor bone cold up from the river with only a curse to his name
arise! arise!
get out of your dusty box napkin face knotted hankie beast cottontail
bang bandage hands around the white throat of a plump clergyman
his cross crushed by your ankhy cross of life
more floating baggage without grime scrolls or three colour poster
in a hall of pin copper pitch play lude wonders
a muffled princess shipped with bier
he smells her sept
lust for scarab and scabie
goes out the door to London flesh
penny paper fog and gas lamp sothis
ladies of vampire ice feeding on nurse maids
Ripper Jack cuts to dusk
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem