While Ochre is melting by the boulders
Those farmers are bargaining for dust
A wasp inside a tin-can simply smoulders
Buzzing for its life; it's not enough
There's sawdust and pale straw in place of morals
The sun picks out its victims on the green
A drayman in his cart, upsetting laurels
Moves inside the silence of a dream
Seeds in the market place
Their every crass distinction weighs me down
Sold, like the one disgrace
The bitter introspections of a clown
The confines of the square might simply hide one
Shadowed by the ale house and the gaol
Cattle, in their lowing, note a phaeton
The drawing in of dusk a thinning tale
Seeds in the market place
Their every crass distinction weighs me down
Sold, like the one disgrace
The bitter introspections of a clown
Nobody in the cloisters: ancient habits
Rotting in the dormitories
Benign