(poem) (chicago) (the Were-age) Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BCDEFGHIJHKLMANOPQQ RSTUVTAWC| 'My age my beast ' Osip Mandelstam | A |
| - | |
| On the lips a taste of tolling we are blind | B |
| The light drifts like dust over faces | C |
| We wear masks on our genitals | D |
| You've heard of lighting cigarettes with banknotes we used to light ours with Jews | E |
| History is made of bricks you can't go through it | F |
| And bricks are made of bones and blood and | G |
| Bones and blood are made of little tiny circles that nothing can go through Except a piano with rabies | H |
| Blood gushes into not from our wounds | I |
| Vietnamese Cuban African bloods | J |
| Constellations of sperm upon our bodies | H |
| Drunk as dogs before our sons | K |
| The bearded foetus lines up at the evolution trough | L |
| Swarmy bloods in the rabid piano | M |
| The air over Chicago is death's monogram | A |
| This is the Were Age rushing past | N |
| Speed men per minute | O |
| This is the species bred of death | P |
| The manshriek of flesh | Q |
| The lifeless sparks of flesh | Q |
| - | |
| Covering the deep drums of vision | R |
| O new era race wars jugular lightning | S |
| Dark glance bursting from the over ripe future | T |
| Know we are not the smilelines of dreams | U |
| Nor the pores of the Invisible | V |
| Piano with rabies we are victorious over | T |
| The drum and the wind chime | A |
| We bite back a voice that might have emerged | W |
| To tame these dead bodies aid wet ashes | C |
Bill Knott
(1)
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