but it’s the high-hooch of distilled meaning. It bites deep. Here’s the line-mob from In Parenthesis, waiting to go over the top.
Last minute drums its taut millennium out
you can’t swallow your spit
and Captain Marlowe yawns a lot
and seconds now our measuring-rods with no Duke Josue
nor conniving God
to stay the Divisional Synchronisation
When it all settles down, internetization complete, I hope there are some people still reading David Jones.