Under the bell tower’s lumpier knee

Courtiers reason the density of sand. Her third

Life cries out. Impudent

Australians, they press their suits into the horizon.

The nut in the voluptuous month

Appeases. All notes indicate the fame

Missing. All notes indicate the hotness.

The Poet twitters: “At last!

My spirit brings this mess of vertebrae,

Invoking ardently its pose in the garden:

The sober, plain songs of funerals.

My vase is better than two Spanish dogs, worse

Than a captain in the bows of his riddles.

O arms and tendons making things new again!”