An intruder of love mutter, ich bin dumm
from the gates eating black henbane
a crucified hair in the punctum
going blind outside golden brocades
a harmless life degrades
the odour of burning cloth
purpley soft, stinking nightshades
in the Phalanstere
mutter, ich bin dumm
blood circles strange ,as bedfellows
sworn into mouthholes O
once he was my golden goat,
but now warped
by that gilt-necked stream,
he twists about the stone,
and chokes the living good.
