When one with t'other straightaway agrees
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Forms shadowy with indecision wheeze
And empty cages show life's bird has flown
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
Were pots graffiti'd over by a slave
The fertile mother changelings drops like kings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
Shallots and sharks'fins face the smould'ring log
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Southern baroque's seductive dialogue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one's bum
Soliloquies predict great things old chum