After Reading Stevens' Emperor

Tell the boaster of big cars
the mechanic’s son, to go and sip
from poets’ flubs luminescent words.
Let the henches swaddle in much cloth
as men wear in despair, and sound the noise
that bowers on the past day's skyscrapers.
Set be the emptying of drams
The only kingmaker is the kingmaker of loud screams.

Rake from the stresser of veal
packing the twee watch fobs, those feet
on which she once loitered with a dunce
and led him low discovering some grace.
When her thorny teats exude, they’re numb
and know how bold they are and glum
Set the clamps betwixt the beams
The only kingmaker is the kingmaker of loud screams.