I wonder asunder
what a whale would wonder
or whether they wander
through waters of wonder.

Above on board bottles
boast "BAM!" faces mottled
but whether bought or dottled
broken beauties cottle.

The window metal rusts
recoiling at her lust
raptous roilings dost
remedy raw must.

and in frustration
and in anger
and in desperation
and in danger
I break.

Leaving convention losing sight of solid ground
sailing Atlantic and crossing canyons hidden
beneath tons of tons of water
I
amidst tons and tons of air
wonder and I wander
and
bottles boast "BAM!"
while
recoiling at her lust.

For this, Beloved, is a Carinval (kar-knee-VAL)
and Carnival, beloved, is a mummers farce.