Toad
Under succulents,
through ripe soft sandstone squashes,
time wasting legumes,
warm dank hideaways,
copious, lush, dreek dark continents,
sluggish snail worlds,
violet leaf mould,
cloying noxious squelchy mulch,
luscious juicy plump larvae,
lush munchable delicacies,
scrummy fat spiders,
plump drugged bugs,
Toad completes his morning round
and
sated on his stool throne,
his vicious tongue primed for purpose,
idly oozing unctuous
obnoxious gunge,
vile putrefaction,
puffing on a dead pope’s pipe,
already rubbed
attends to his correspondence
Grimbeau 