Glocal Poem Poem by nicky kelly

GLOCAL POEM

Lady John Donne inherited a string of pearls from HIC SUNT LEONES
As to authenticity jewelers had doubts
English language can be Count Dracula’s birthplace
But malaysian black pearls ago were an all Mediterranean-Sea affair.
The wariest jeweler travelled to the Carpatian mountains
Searching a marsh of frogs for the pearl-fisher
To and fro he found a trouble called Plato
Who addressed him to a future perfect called Immanuel
The time-spirit had sublimated among the storks in Konigsberg
Practising the typical abstract alchemy of the Prussian blue
When the nth Reich was in the alembic too
And Faust. had not forbidden Capri’s Paradise
(his travelling double caressing the curves of Rome) .
All, after, had become too complicated
The windows yet looked at the imperial chasm -
The two divergent eyes pointing to the fly out the common nose -
Though history and legend were amended in a Mercator’s chart
Unabridged and flaws, as freckles, ended up a wisp of smoke.
Just the nicest poem remained the one you missed
you let it go through your mind and don’t finish
and will blend it with earth’s womb illiterate &strict
nicely but words do not us redeem.

Every now and then a bird of ill omen came from Sarajevo
And his news wasn’t bad, for Scythian tumuli
Didn’t still give radiations off, going the Milky Way beyond.
To the order of the ideas, near a spring without cuckoo though brilliant
Was the Epilogue sitting, unlocking the oysters
Wriggled out the string the officiant, Wallace, holded
& astonished the three Sisters at his designer dome
Very, very vintage. Wallace thought about Friedrich’s thought in Basilea but really
He thought about Martin and Martin thought Man is thought by slang
Until the Thought touched the wooden monkeyish lullaby
And silence and howl groomed their ear wanting in their concentrical brain..
All this translated for the English ephebe was only the fiction
Of the curse of the tomb he thought too long was wrong
The true jewel for is ever in front of all very eyes
But they need very lenses so fake
Fakes fake and the Three Mothers are happy
Finally to stop the reel là-bas.
Mr. Bloom could keep a secret Ozymandias
But the pearls are there and the simulacrum bare.