Oh steely lark, hark, I repent,
Thou of burning bush lament,
Of a*shole, seven shades of plum,
Mahogany and rosehip beacon.

Strive in poison, for mule and stem,
In hack, and cool shade of Bethlehem,
Strive yet in aching light of men,
For nimble arpeggio passion?

Oh pain of pride, and blood of beast,
That wept in muscle fury heat,
That echoes silk, and leaves me beat,
For cherished cunt most true.

Connor M. Webber