In my dreams, in which all stirs;
There is this great defeat,
Momentum of circumstance in which
The peeled decay
Of altruism
Reveals
Nasty
Bits,
That sworn honey for
All-timely fact-of-matter,
In the way,
Of all existence, that reports to some prodding matter,
As if turbulence was deemed otherwise,
Upon treachery
Towards
Hope of the blossom
Carnation-Rose crown
And I too instead,
Chose
Ivy.



