Our quaking skin

Submerge the infernal din

Riot of juicy hominids

Purple iris, yellow bud within

For a forest can yield

More I have found

In any art gallery

In manic city vault

Or speakers corner


Scabbing over

The flatulent masses

Thinking their somulant gravy heads


Wallow in rhetoric and

The absence of things beautiful

Where O where

In dell, in valley, cliff and crag

Scattered like spell

Forever stretches infinite

Sleek as a seal

Catching waves coiling surge

Magic possesses quiet urge