tortle shells and lucky dells
have all my dreams a lackals
blown and posted muenster
on the floor, broken by the scare
curdled, smelly rusted cheese
putteres long about, along the eves
pasty creams and dainty coverlets
pulled beneath our chins and necks
these are curdling in the heat
my careful fears so neat
put those caltrops away old men
they hurt my feet and spleen
what can you sing when your eyes are
clutchy made with