being monday

52 mondays in a year approx. Times 60 is 3120 plus 20 for this year makes 3140 my moonday tally. First day of the working week for the working your monday in the old days when weeks ended. Day 1 in flexitime cycles of 24/7’s now is whatever. Default day, D day, delete these septic memes from mind brain! Cant be done, not on any day: Yanqui colonised my consciousness. Yanqui gone home in my head. We are Configured, Walmartyred. No exit from the monster market, bloggsters.
Many mondays ago into the mouth of a Restoration rake, Sir Charles Sedley no less, I put the words:

- Ye godly calculating apes, a fig for your Market! I can’t get no satisfaction in’t, I piss ‘pon’t, a turd i’ th’ teeth o’ the baboon of Profit! I shall show you a map o’ the Market - ( Sir Charles moons).

Which remains my position, the argumentum ex culo, obscene, impotent, kickable, due for reconstruction. To wit:

Luchre filthy, no way, pure fiction, transcendental
based on understandings, promises, wings and prayers,
the medium, the Paraclete of a Capital trinity.

In a global brotherhood of business my word is my bond.
Bond the word is alive and well in Cottesloe,
one of a suited myriad, Logos and Sons P/L

Our all-fathering market is pure intelligence,
artificial, jittery, self-correcting, we believe
quia impossibile est
subject to panic, grounded in irrationality
a mystery unmentionable
as the incommensurabilty of the square root of 2
the Pythagoreans hushed up with extreme prejudice

Economics blown out to metaphysics cum theology
so Dives may divine the fundament of fundaments
and turn a blind eye to the bleeding obvious

J-curve me to heaven Invisible Hand

So I better sharpen my ideas up- this is no way to win the admiration of the senior editor, Black Inc, Level 5, 289 Flinders Lane 3000, nor that of Les Murray who the judicious anthologer of the beat Aust Poetry 2005.

Sweete Themmes runne softly, till I end my Song

Ed Spenser claims descent in the Prothalamion from the Spencers of Althorpe. This means, gentle bloggsters, he may be an ancestor of Lady Di.
The other thing is Ez & Tom hiking around the Catharist sites Montsegur etc in the 20s following the same heretical scent as Bestseller Brown.