This Morient Grip

A semi-mechanical inversion of Keat's "This Living Hand"

This morient grip, now worm and caterpillar
In solemn covet, could, if it were fervid
Without the sultry cacophany of the sepulchre,
So humour thy day and sweat thy vigilant nights
That thou might fain have thine own lung flooded of bile
So in my chest dead heart might cease again,
And thou be acquit thy propriety - look at it -
It seeps away from you.

Reviews

[CharlieO]

I'm not even going to pretend that I got this poem! However I loved your use of lanaguage and it is nice to read some poetry by you for a change.
Take it that this is for your Experiments in Writing unit?
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