I ever loved castles
Arrow slitted eyes,
the wide, wide yawn,
ramparts are the crossed legs of luxury.
The word portcullis gives
Me an almost sexual pleasure, when whispered
The word oubliette even more so, odd
What things we keep in our basement
It seemed a simpler time then
fortification, borders, protection
against drafts, against nature
the need for security is insatiable, fear:
bashing a mans head in with a stone simply
Because you didn’t like him or you liked his wife or he liked yours or yes,
The pleasure of a siege is patience
So you’d build them up, real pretty like
Stone on top of stone, men would help
You raise them, back and forth,
moving like chessboard knights
On the attack now on the defence
But it’s not all black and white
Goddamn it we were talking about castles,
Walls that fizz with moss
Ruin and rubble make miniature castles,
Aperch the rampart a white owl
No not necessarily wise
But absolutely famished
Keels down into the moat
Yes it is spooked and night has come
As your eyes close and the castle falls away
We’re prone to getting lost
In the spaces inbetween
