The odd world,
So strange,
So hollow and vast you are.

Agony and dandy,
Yet a precinct
not ingenious.

A den worthless of life
And a miser of love.

A realm so dark to the eye
And a path of solitude.

The gate irksome to take
The portal to death.

Shall we pin to it
Or to making this choice?

Shall it be some days later
Or a day before long

Yes, the odd world
So strange
So dewy and so muddy

A realm of regrets
Where one lies prostrate

Naked all day and all night
An art unknown to memory

Yes, a place of vacuum
But one roams in drizzle

Thereupon, my ancestors descended
behind the eye for too long.

She slips onto me one sunny day
A day said to be a dream.

A day not totally eclipsing
But alluring in the sky

I behold her,
Set out a bit
In a discordance of embrace

On one’s doorstep,
She turns up
And words out motionless

Here read her sentential
An adage to note

A note that she read:
Thereupon I am a son

Though too late,
But one will not descry
Till the day one gets on

I Stand and sleep unwell
Even my eyes candid in no light.

Oh I thirst for home
I Remember
But never felt like it was

I reckon but can’t harken back
Because the brain has gone aloft

Now is where I am,
So odd
Rolling like a crab on its side

Smelling at each other’s noses
And eating on each other’s bodies

Naked at our bodies and faces
Though clothed at that time.

But like a farm cucumber
Living bare on shallow ground.

Ante up too longing
Crying and laughing alone this time

Yonder the world of imagination
I’m gone to that strange world.

Just to say goodbye
But death distinct from the living.