With a thud this nation failed to respond
to war in the yellow swirl—uh world, vast & beautifully bitter
a violent slip tomorrow makes us all but tall.
—Just how big is this damned pond?
from over yonder boobs, all smeared with the same glitter,
while Henri lingered, at his desk, asleep, & small.
Of stereotypes, of which no one can rewrite interestingly
the very dreadful thoughts of his dreamy valley.
In my ‘youth’, I stuck a pin in a girl & became a villain.
The lovely motion of blood in the air, I stood in the classroom singly
like a heaving bull, the blackness in an alley,
the clapping strength sounding within.
Still I knew nothing of oceans, I was a rolling crook—
Maybe that young girl had failed to impress, whatever,
they all get far
—of the deep drop on her arm, from where I took
it out, that breaking badge of Henri’s, ever clever.
—Oceans, Mr Nimh, how big they are.
