The call time tuned counterpoint
Amid solo snaring drum
Tangoing this prosody in perplexed steps
Between the devil and the deep blue see.
At dagger point,
Poked in the polyamorous-tent of gold’s forging
Lo two rattling undesired perils propelling
Do I undock the ornate pot of jewelries on that bent apple tree,
And delve the red orchard full of beehives,
And thole through its true tragedous sting?
Or expede home with this empty barrel
That dissipates no strength
But emit jest laughter of celibacy
Scourged and counterposed
On the brink of manhood?