The waiting love song of Joe Alfred Prudential

And all the sub headers there contained

Con legno legno spranga mai non cinse

forte così; ond’ei come due becchi

cozzaro insieme, tanta ira li vinse.

E un ch’avea perduti ambo li orecchi

per la freddura, pur col viso in giùe,

disse: «Perché cotanto in noi ti specchi?

Dante XXXII 49-54

Let us stay than you and I,

Thick with mulch and dead flowers a bunch

Heaping swirls stranded by the street still bear

a noise that prattles of an Emperor lost,

who cannot even disclaim the noises of his positions

even the echoes do not have a cause.

His followers declaim that they are saving souls,

from tyranny, pedantry, flat crullers gnash, and sour looks.

and this is probably true because Mara De Lungo Largo

is out there someplace,

spanning the towers and spending every flourish gash,

speaking of anything but Michelangelo

because his painting is too refined to butcher de los Boys

into Garish Ginguigaps the leading schoze of a forgotten age.

Oh do not go,

do not stay,

for that yellow frog of the room where the woman come and go

speaking of anything but Michelangelo

and covered by the casters, everyone, with the voices dying with a dying fall.

The Emperor has grown old,

The Emperor has grown old,

with never pantaloons descant defenestrated

and with his madness comes that cackling of the wasted many

who know not what they solemnly manufacture in unsocial mismedia.

For this does not connect with the steam growing from vast collection

that advises the Prince who was a king

advising him to deny what he firmly said

what the sparrows sang to me beneath the chambers of the darkening sea.

An older, Eldar, even Steven, of fates to malign to be stilled called evil

eating a peach maligned.

Do not go

Do not stay

whether speaking of anything but Michelangelo

or receiving with worry over anything and yet nothing at all

because it is still a teacup foaming with delicious feast

devour even what has no substance of Ruggieri brain

in dance of sullen time.