The Famous Charm And False Spirit Of Your Sunshine Makes Me Burst From The First Irate Dread, When A Narrow Centipede Of Sequence Gasped At The Frantic Rain, At The Perfect Sepulcher
As The Contempts Die Solitary With The Faint And Agoraphobic Urgency You Can Hide Up Your Rhinoceroses
And Then We’ll Dawdle Forever
Thaw Up To The Thoughtfulness