Under black questions, arguing,

The ostriches hold modern stoves

Though they are strange gods

Darting their red eye. They take pills.

Without reincarnation they hold themselves

Up until a melancholic hour,

Where pressed against an oblique sun

The constellations establish.

Their attitude to the enlisted sage,

That he requires in this world of his cranium

The tumult and the movement;

The ivory man from a passing umber

Always carries the chatting,

Having voluntarily changed his place.