The sun squirts red rains
of malediction in re-tri-bu-sun .
inhabitants of the water world,
of globular congregation
arken the hornblower
who laments the daybreak at nighfall:
you woke the slumbering sun!
you blew the firing smoke up beyond!!
Now the sun weeps in agony,
waking with eyes red like scarlet,
oblique in bank of black cloud but
will not descend beyond Olympus when
Scotching mist of flame bound snow-fall.
So the sons of men,
while crossing the threshold of sky flood,
laden with metallic
and long menacles…
The pathway is a taboo!
It was made by the prime
And only they walk therein.
So like goatskin pancaked with krokro,
man’s eyeball oiled and paining,
squirting soiled milk.
Not waterfall but bloodrain,
Slapped skin and burning.
Now in thunderous silence the sun laughed.
The deed of man is done.
Saw the harbinger beckoning the red cloud
gathered northward in the Atlantic
You cannot wait under the umbrella in snowrain
Or does one deeps finger into the fire and sleeps afterward?
Tis the teardrops of a weeping sun
licking the waters dry.