The Goodfellow
This baleful repetition –
reaped and sown
by the click and the flash,
shackled in spider-murk
and animate tangle,
is no jest or gawde
but the felling of bodies;
a casual ruination.
This radiant, illuminate
magnesium blaze
nags a fallen Robin
naked to the foothills;
to the oak woods;
to the court
of the unSeelie.
—-
A caveat; this, for some reason has freaked me out a bit. It doesn’t feel like my writing and alludes to Shakespeare and other 16th Century playwrights. The language isn’t mine and feels wrong. There are one or two lines adapted from Antonio de Torquemada’s ‘The Spanish Mandevile of Miracles, or, The Garden of Curious Flowers’.
But that’s not what it’s about.
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