from In the Assarts

Jeff Hilson


Repeat I am not a crossbowman
not with these arms
I blunder on
o poesy I couldn't put it together
better as well as
I thomas wyatt
the spy who loved me
is masturbating with the ruler
o anne Boleyn
I'm straight &
half as good as you &
quite the way you do


When I grow up I want to be
I thomas wyatt & hang around
the stately homes of england.
I am not in this dance
the little necks of england
slipped & crowned
so long anne Boleyn you spoiled
my holiday theory of value.
How to explain the flowers to
I thomas wyatt when I was rescued by
her falling
head on my moustache.
O anne Boleyn was there room in
the room that you roomed in?


I loved you o anne Boleyn
instead of thomas wyatt I
wrote your falling name on
my mistake. You in very small
trunks. You in dark green.
You in tough smooth tops.
Since I went to pieces
alas my american tats were this bad
when I got off with your head
when I was sir thomas wyatt
yes no don't know
why I spent my life in wood.
These hands made the best french boats.
These hands make the best english bats.


When I was sir thomas wyatt
& I dreamt I shot arrows in my
anne Boleyn bra. She was just
being herself by my slow-grown
yew self-bow. I am sir thomas
wyatt I said (we were both
idiots) & I live in a tent
on the field of the cloth of gold.
I shot arrows in a minute.
She died on a shiny turret.
O anne Boleyn I made your head
into an italian sonnet.
Tremendous on the face is you
(she loves to wear a lame bra too)


Who I love is donovan
all I said is
& when I am fighting
& when english guitarists were exhausted
& when I am penetrated by the sound of music
my first double album
& now I am a parent I love
double albums more than
double penetration
because I am always fighting
donovan I said
donovan phillips leitch
I love you either way instead of
o anne Boleyn its not the fucking 1360s


So I considered the environment
not being on fire or anything
either way I absorbed a photon
its not the fucking 1360s
I'm just mad about
the field of the cloth of gold
& my other yellow hands
in which they lie.
O grammar rules
like the terrible terrible rings
on my photon belt.
O gamma rays
that light itself like
the terrible terrible assarts.


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