Bloated rot gave way
Dried-up crone ashtray
Images avoid the mind
Lurched, sad, unkind
Dozy years, tall toll
Pole rubs hurly-burly
Deep-toned bell-tongue
Is laughing too early
Rang out long-run voice
Leaping to shatters' shadows
Dusty pools will rejoice
In snow prophetic letters
At times barks the line squall
Making the sky glass rattle
Pale poles pall St. Paul
Big hat, but no cattle