cloth
who would i be if i were not me
the vehicle of some pat desire
the flabby rest place of contentment
its dog attendant and night drink
with all the attributes of milk-water
and i would be with all the attributes of water too
and if i ever washed then in those ablution
are my lost penances dissolved
for nature took the humble norms of humanity
and strew my self with divisions with which to devise division
and hurry confusion throughout for no other gain than pleasure
or no other pleasure more than gain
this is Satan at her work
still knitting with her hands
the many hates of mankind from the braids of greed
jealousy fear distrust
ugly mangled braids that make its twine
and in and out her friends and foes she winds its yarn
and they become enmeshed embellishing the weave
a tapestry of twisted creatures turning