O That Right-Wing Magic



hangover of the 20th century, hair-of-the-dog of the 21st.
again we need introduction, enhancement. not nothingness
but ‘a vacant dimension’. a fly is near. a helicopter is far. they
are the same. anything that is not contributing to the revolucion
—or to its repression—is chintz. holy sparks, yes, but no prose
explanations. exilic as ever, our life in the host nation is rainy
and hot, ‘four seasons a day’ as one of the natives puts it
in one of the native pubs, masticating a pink-brown sirloin.
we refine, we refine, the dross of evil. the extroverts go out,
the introverts stay in (to write about the extroverts). the fly
thumps glass. the helicopter lands at Kensington Palace.

exilic, things are more mysterious….


with inner letters with soul alphabets we’ll add
to the mountain not just admire it
and the sins written on the forehead
are erased by rains—from memory—
when the rains fall as anointment
to wake the very tired men and women
whom the illuminator has coaxed to sleep
so they could be

the days we need are magically sun-lit
sap-lit with a sap more liquor than honey
to excite the passions if dormant
or control the passions if disturbing
praying not following the heart’s imagination
to dreams of conquest to violate
the triumvirate of hidden qualities
and thus attain to the correct
mystical mindset

to work in the refinery
to awake to awe


the king espouses harmony but we
cannot because of discords of headwinds
and a sense of being fished
by him in hints
out of waters and into nets
so at the simplest literal level
I felt the rain and the sun today
a greater blessing than any thought
of frankness or humility
and the people walked through me again
as if I was invisible or dead
and as they walked through me
I tried on their souls

illuminations from many portions



the right-wing magic that flies in the air
unites parents and children men and women
where even angels do not have the power to exist
but stand as pillars
propping up the right-wing architecture
as the buildings fill with music with rhetoric
and the bodies with cool thrills
of exaltation and ambition
vessels containing their portions of light

to buy left-wing books in right-wing shops
or sell right-wing books in left-wing shops
dancing in trousers and dresses
to a right-wing valse
on an impetus from



Niall McDevitt

Photos: Max Reeves  (from Mind Forg’d Manacles)



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