Killing the five Buddhas of Governance leaving one----A Political Poem in several voices

Through Family allowances

We confer your votive offering

Grist to our mill

On your children's party

Attend to this

And in our Royal

Will

(We hope)

To cede to your 

Clumsy Labours some change.

Beneath this, our noble range

Must not be exceeded.

Righteous action to future determinations

Must surley ensue

And so we raise by doubling

(your tax'ed memory notwithstanding

An impost on the collectivity

Of the dead

Which now bercomes the basis of the State.

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----And so our monarch raves and moans,

Moves from a boxed bric-a-brac

To a more sophisticated science

Reflecting this we lend a lucky means

Cenetered in the product

Of our ascetically gripped and gripping loins

Enountered by this but reasserting order

we suggest our real bind

A real blindig gaping wound

Within which we thrash

Having in effect to let this be

Power.

That is,

That which is,

For its own sake,

Power

And so we swing nets about

On other darkened lakes 

Too distant 

From this immediate conscience

In which we declare ourselves to be law.

We dare to pass

On power

Raising evidence for this sanction 

From the depths of your own

Self inflicted pain and enquiry

Which we have witnessed

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In other times you would have called this kingship

And perhaps justified  yourselves lords 

Bound to us through and through in shearing myths

Strength against strength

And we might have reached a self-limiting range

For our courteous rule

But though you find some 

Providential worship

In me I am not now centered 

In your stil shallow networks

But (personally) I choose to renounce

My plural perspectives

And wander like a ghostly light

Through the night

Within your garnisheed institutions

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Baptism without water

Rule without sanction

the plaything of my toys

Your laboured produce

So intricate, so delicate, so finely engineered

So reflexively artless

Delights me

As, along with you,

I assist in the governance

of our intertwined economy

And curse the godless who

cannot see

The justice of our collectivity

In the execution of this game

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But outside looking in,

Darker selves more individual

And defined, more, particular

Silent and skeptical

Continue to move us

The quiet and  lonely Universal

Away from such bargained greed

And, indeed, in the forest night small lights

And large eyes

Are ever unable to dance 

To such an incoherent theme

(And)  choose to watch and not to know

Impervious to this novitiate  so reduntantly legal

Here are voices forever warning 

That in these high and lonely places

Power extinguishes its own law

And so thirsts

To return to its Original Commonwealth

Which remains forever

Distanced from executive reach 

And helplessly so.