the iconoclast's descending

  Lamenting’s Prolapse Ruling by gentle guide figuring the Adored? Instead pestilential secrecies chaining Croesus’ creosoting code and harness,   Abandoned now by recurrent calls to lament after Jeremiah’s unheeded Call to the Shema’s buckle— lev ’s twice intonation— instead gate and house built atop a creted curtain of language, electronifried— As the fell city falls because a false corner angle stoned its dethrown.   Pity, pity, pit without lament Such vaporous course Channeled by history’s recursing, wellworks leading Rockets into the most sere space, A chilled universe where a bit of heated blood stands against the suck of absolute zeroing.   History’s looping met with flaming swords, turning angels, Pitch and bitumen coursed Inhospitted dumping warned For souls better fit by hospital than programs of fools, chaised,   By absurdities proud By atrocities condemned By boxing no verities Instead accruing the slap...