I’m exhausted by your right brain images;
My fossae sinistrae grow thick with mosses.
Like an odalisque who’s lain too long abed,
Plump on whole clams with horseradish spiced
And by wet swollen lips sucked
From scallop-canopied shell beds,
Unable to heave her bloated body
Upright, I can lo longer copy
This uncultured film, mother of pearl,
Membraneous lining. Dura Mater dexter.
Let go and leave me to intercourse
With civilization once more
Lest of this Roman gorging I burst,
This orgiastic carnival feast.