CANTO 49 The puny liberal

 

"The puny liberal pulings of platoons of paltry poltroons,"

says Agnes Spiral, thrusting the canape-tainted

non-proliferation petition

from her vinyl manicure as Sir Richard in his Washingcow town-house

idly polishes a silver sardine spear cast from melted-down grails,

while Razzle torches an ICBM-shaped cigar that mushrooms

a bilious billow triggering Muzak from the smoke-alarm

Richard has modified and ready to market

want to surprise your tobacco-loving guests how they’ll all chuckle!

"Power and the strategic use of power to protect our interests,

that’s what this game is all about," says Razzle, with a thin film

of Kuala lingering on his large stained lips.

"That’s why we need fellows like you to give us the latest technology,

and engineers to apply it

so our freedom fighters can put it to good use!"

"But of course", says Richard, lapping a tad of Drambuie

with the penile tip of his alert darting tongue,

"the scientist does only science and makes no reference

to social or cultural values" (this with an index-finger

touch to his rimless glasses— he wouldn’t dream of soft contacts!)

Agnes wings a winsome grin to Adamant:

"What a wide range of wicked weapons we have nowadays!

So good to have our supermarkets loaded with liquid deterrent.

Every home laundry a potential reactor. First thing you know

even our psychic powers will help to strengthen defense."

"Poppy-prick!" says Bathbone, as he picks praline particles

from the place-mat woven by relocated peasants run-over

by debt roll-over. "We need to take all the psychics, gurus, cult-leaders,

priests, Jews, poets, protestors, pot-smokers, and put ‘em

to doing a good day’s work, earn a ruble, sweat of their brows,

workfare not medicare, gulag Jane Fonda, I say!"

"Funny you should mention it, but I’m working in that area

right now," says Adamant, with a grant-getting gleam in his eye

and a micro-second flick of his tongue Agnes’ way:

"We have a demonstration coming up at the Procurement Banquet

that will conclusively demonstrate the strategic importance

of the so-called transcendental meditation in a pilot program

which simultaneously has the added virtue of putting

an idle dreamer to productive work."

"How wonderful," Spiral lilts, her eyes doing a butterfly

as she nips a mite of cream sherry while her dangling high-heel

ticks Adamant’s responsive oxford.

"Come on, Dick," growls Razzle, what the hell possible good

in all that possle of crap?"

"So happens I have a tape along that gives you

a highly digestible lecture on the subject," says the hard scientist,

reaching to flip open the mahogany cabinet while one leg

stretches to playfully engage the ample calf of the delighted Agnes.

"Remember that volunteer you and Fone got for me, ah, Andro, something,

yes, Andro Genie is her name? Well we’ve played this tape

for her a few dozen times— a very promising subject, she is."

"Oh yass— well roll it!"

Sir Richard’s voice, muted by filters,

mellowed by condensers,

made vibrant by an aural exciter,

piquant by digital delay,

rolls across the table to where Agnes writhes imperceptibly.