summer s 'and the man was in it died,
But the city blaspheming his spitting asphalt
And the world without stopping roaring crashed
While rage and anger in ryegrass.
The holy men left, but sinners lived
Then the earth was silent, the sky was rent,
And the bowels of the Sea God smote
light burst and all the men believed.
The saint had preached well and God forgave.
Paradise would it taste like a summer
Who longs to leave last and finish?
Eden So this is it scorched earth
Where frolic of body pain and veiled?
my hell is my dream that wakes a laugh.
Tangier, September 2010
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