Dr. Dee sets angels dancing between your ears…
Poor Harry, afraid the Muse will desert you
if he deigns this favour.
Long since cat caught dragonfly—
Virgin Queen Olympics, wrestlers fully dressed,
There but for your Vermeer morning,
clever scorching lips go I:
Ideogrammic (keep them guessing!) Method,
Mr. W.H., H.W.; What-the-Hell?
What the Purgatory?
Crocodile half-steps into Limbo
not much of a story.
Dr. Dee sets devils dancing under your cap…
Poor Harry, afraid you will disdain him, if he does,
under the greenwood tree of afternoon nap.
Sandalwood fans open and close
etched by elves with forest scenery
griffins unfold their wings
emerald of listening: