Last night the storm landed
In a watery cul-de-sac
As I parachuted into pleasure
I was like a drogue
At one with the waves
The same as a bomb exploding
I wasn\'t prepared for the loud explosion
A drought sizzling off to a foreboding feeling
Pitted in the deep end of the abdomen
Amber petals of the Eschscholzia
Layered in numbers on the comely grass
Hinds run and breed and fear on
The hollystock is burnt and I\'m crestfallen
In the starry night I\'m dying
As cold as last year\'s winter
With my Eskimo plan
The sun fried to a crisp
The thought was put into my brain
The farrago of feelings is given a whisk
I remain the same
The feelings are compatible
With a marble built monument
Steel and gargoyle
The dream died and I drove
The fig withered in the dark of the alcove
The cubbyhole is the mouthpart of the dragon\'s crypt
In this pearl shiny disquisition of little black deutzias
The cotter pin melted with the French seam
A body clinging to life is a star beaming
In the sewing machine
I am high on the feeling
With the silky clouds breaking down
Heated to the point of smoke
I am purified
All things good and new
I have laced your fruit into myself
At your office door with my impatient bladder
I built a cornfield, became the scarecrow.