as if Sisyphus before the miser tract,
and Charon before the debtors,
no weidling pitch-fork caucus,
or more toward askin for worth...
came first the siamese tongue
and tree in candle flame entwined,
from Y you came, unto Y
you shall return;
a candle spurred came closer
to my abode, than any lover would;
even is that W became a C...
and the remnant in nearing
acronym, or prefix elongated...
          the demands of the gods  
are for mortal men to mark a labour
in recurrence to no scout in return
of assurence of settled tomb
mark swoon, scoop, harvest
and ditto...
                 had i but my own:
wife, children and heritage...
         I wouldn't be left thinking of
Antactica... as some sort of
reimagining of a Sydney pleb
choir fetish for transcendence...
  and that overtly bloated meringue
(as any dyslexic anonymous
intervention, borrowing french,
adding as many diacritical marks
as eating vowels in suffixes etc.);
in pristine form comes
a bone akin to a chewing sensation,
gargantuan into fade;
pst...
       anglo over uses pronouns,
demanding definite and indefinite
           X quasi space pseudo timing
und contra...
           other languages demand
an incorporation of pronouns
into other words,  that simple
plastic surgery won't fix...
                7+ 000,000,000...
                try attempting "fame"
in China...
        the ******* chopsticks will overtake you,
like shoelaces will, heading west
to make compensations with.