Alexander Gilmour!!!
 

Hung up on great cathedrals
Your legs burn like the dust of trees
slow and still, as summer would thrill
blood and bones

Yet your silence grows leaves
that tickle in an awkward way
your double bread, a golden bread
can save my tongue;
in a silver way, I mount
your orgasm on a platter
the one that stings like Cassius Clay
and lifts a breeze in Apocalypse day

"Oh can this summer fade way
in less than ordinary decay..."