i heard it day
the night sonata grunted
dollops of gacking bulging light

generally it might cool
                 a germ of fornicating flowers
of colours so purely filth
                            and marvel virtually
in gross infantile expunging
                                                            the death swiftly harnessed the
                                                             sorry dork of earth gobbles
                                                            of crude immeasurable lips

       the very burning brush
                                   of permanent sun