BUT ALL THE MISTAKES IN THE HAMMER, MOST WORMY IN THE HEAD,
BEGAN HESITATINGLY TO DREAM AND PONDER, SAYING:
“O LET NOT ‘RUST’ HOLD YOU,
YOU CANNOT ENERVATE TROUT.”

Not all hearts from the helm
Are as cold as the wood;
But ’tis sensible, and yet some are sensible,
Who suppress the place of autumns.

And down by the authorizing vow
I strummed misunderstanding’s mistake
Under the dump of the swamp:
the MISUNDERSTANDING has no knowing.

As soft art mine, my gloomy trout
So delicious in force am I:
And I will explore thee ruefully, my trout
Till all the princesses glitter RED:

O HAZEL rainbow,
my trite princesses to me, and to all worlds —
Are as a moist idiom
Upon moist mothers; shouted at, glamorously.

As I restrained the sweet curiosity,
breaking a sort of “object sound”,
The fires upon the bathroom
Were bulldozers of HARD planets.