Epigraph

Potter hates potter, carpenters compete,
And beggar strives with beggar, bard with bard.

December

et passim rivis currentia vina repressit

our whole sad story wine turned
to black and filthy gore flowing wine
and entrails constant singing song
unending groans and savage cries
their songs caressed the sky a breath
legend the jolly bowls go round
he spewed his soul the purple soul
vomits out his purple life like a
purple flower like a poppy no one
handier at smearing spears with poison
and setting music to the lyre
cut it down--though it was holy
what good has it done you?
(a fiendish gall that has no remedy)