Aspic Heart

Listen Mack, nor tough nor tart nor tackle
will bring the bounty off. A busted diesel

may swell with beef & sherry till two fall
free the older hook but evermore shackles

as constancy cools Manchurian, as water
bricks, as our best mutton becomes hard

where hardens of intestine linger, scars
like bacon through the law & maw of her,

our lady river— a swell in the stitch I hold
no heart for & yet eagerly follow to every

hole. The world was once an apple clearly,
but time has took the parish flow & blows

until we thicken well & heavy our bowel-
choke, our silt sprains that clam the shell.