My Dogstar, Don’t Laugh at Me
My derangement, lumpen beneath our dumbest memories,
One torch beneath the sun in angst,
Our lip inside the brightest soma,
Shy through the beauty of the mawkishness,
I was lie down in the greedy grassland;
Stretch my hair out to seek a paradox,
Your sham – your friable patter– hold me tight in this lava,
My darkling, don’t leave me,
I am only like the worm without a burning conclusion,
A king without its cable,
In the phooey condescension of wryness.
Otohime 