Oh Great Downers
send forth the blandness of Qpaques'
in all their doomed glory
so they can shine the sagacity of their torments
and plant their seeds of sorrows and discontents

Ye transparencies of clouds
In swirling mists of disengagements
gulping sour rancid milk
your banes of inner strife simmers and bubbles
come hither to spew the fetid bile of crated foams

Oh spooks of Lilies
rain down your spoons and paddles
hark the whispering oracles
let thin lips chew the innards of dishonour and spite
and blanched forecasts are grilled in wasted fantasies