Come Moroccan blue, Wrought a Tokyo twilight; The tangled neon, Guangzhou, Ought London fog or gloom – Entity’d ‘ever end with me.
So when gods plays jokes Come a second near and nigh, I’d nearly utter, “amen,” Atop a belly, soon and son’s first cry – I am a father; above, eternity’d grin.
So my plane kisses pavement, tepid, Wrought one mother waiting; and All I’d ran from, all abandoned, Is now the only that’d welcome. I’d never thought to nest, and yet –