O for a life less examined, with nothing to be compared and measured by;
then with that overcome, will you bend my shirts for old times sake?
Set your Grimoires aside for rainless, aimless sorrow days;
gambol free in pigeon slippers through Dijon mustard fields;
assume the lifestle of a burgher of Elysia,
We today shall call oursleves Ashfodel & Bergamon,
and make merry in naff herbaceous borders.
First shower carefully perched upon a lofty sill
and do not spill the soap
a pepper speck in the universal wet room lino.
A ferocious fungus grows on my hipbones,
an unsightly ganglia, purpley and pacoderm.
Attribute it to the dim light cast in the black jade mirror.
Those dark atlantic raves play merry hell with the orbs.
A new moon, I hear: what of the old one?
Confer with the owl when twilight holds sway.
This is brilliant!