The boil failed of lancing
Panders its own landscape
Share out the pain
In madness perne
With the orc-harm gamut
Will there still be singing
Scapegoating plenty
And good plans scanty
Babylon’s swerve-rivers
Seiche with lamentation
Plague clowns posture
And emptily gesture
Cloudcuckooland’s hacksaws
Prove nesh against meshes
And the tides rise
Cowed by no ruse