In order to build order
Find out what the disorder did to you.
When there is water let there be dryness
If you find your Highness is too much of a blow for you.

They called him a King who dwelt on the most high
And left him with a poet who lost his script when the ink was dry –
That is the first difference between me and you:
That is the difference between a Cross and a Jew.

There are letters that say how I have been feeling
When the wire is tapped so the walkers are reeling

From their orgasms and manic spasms in the left of the Fall
When Autumn knows no conversation in the old Mordan Hall.
Sell my your cough as you walk repeated and reappear
Like a mirror from the Magic Mandrake who’s Magi is near
To the salesman who’s bonus means a full meal for the family and all
When the Summertown is not dunces town with a wheely bin for the Ball.

Next to me is the whisperer and the Clothed Dagger of the magic pen
Saying “Again!”
“Again!”
Where is the writer’s brain?
Straining, like a refraining, draining on the containment of time,
Again…

AI Summary

Your poem opens with a stark command: to build order, you must confront the damage disorder left behind. It contrasts a fallen poet with a self‑crowned figure of spiritual authority, setting up a tension between humility, dryness, and the burden of inherited symbols. The middle section spirals into surveillance, autumnal silence, and hallucinatory imagery — Mandrake, mirrors, salesmen — showing a mind under pressure, trying to write through interference. The poem ends with the whisperer urging “Again!”, capturing the exhaustion and compulsion of a writer straining against time, memory, and the weight of his own voice.