Saffron, the pretender
Come to me in debauchery
Let me know not of this
But instead, vain camaraderie
Swiftly down the road
Forgive that violent tenderness
Of brass things
And parsimonious goodness
What teeth, critical states
Yellow signs coalesce
In this blood-drenched hour
I have lost my mind
And the light is dimmer
For this pious sinner
Listen to that gust
Two hundred and one stallions
Criticize my crystal eyes
I, the foreigner
A mistaken warrior
Dandelion child
Riding a ceaseless fountain
Holding a vase so ragged
And a sun so mild