A treatise divides between its several heads, yellow
safe as its green is matter-of-fact, ladies-mantle
bunched lustrous jar, converges & is close to oceanic -
No more no more. The earth bread, the millet, maize,

the repeated cattle voluble as though on cranes' legs,
where shall these be put? A telephone put its reply
summarily before a priest calling, stands & clicks
divining-bones like callipers, adjusted so as to nod

agreement but in a separate context. It is a protocol
followed by true, farsighted men. Their fine yellow
hegemony spreads, in pollen unconstrained but keeping
bounds, lilts towards the future thought to include

a number of specifics. Take the colourful antidote
to irony, the sexual check on starvation, shuttles of
feverish remedies would swerve through roseate water
plump the little object I which wallowed & withered

& wallowed again on the lam like an ECHO virus; take
that ragamuffin seeds & multiplies, cursed to remain
orphaned ever within its own likenesses - it is clear,
is it not, is it not, is it not, blue heaven sweats.