Foes I sniff, when I have less to shout

or murmur. Pals alone enormous sounds

downward & up bring real.

Loss, deaths, terror. Over & out,

beloved: thanks for cabbage on my wounds:

I’ll feed you how I feel:—

of avocado moist with lemon, yea

formaldehyde & rotting sardines O

in our appointed time

I would I could a touch more fully say

my consentless mind. The senses are below,

which in this air sublime

do I repudiate. But foes I sniff!

My nose in all directions! I be so brave

I creep into an Arctic cave

for the rectal temperature of the biggest bear,

hibernating—in my left hand sugar.

I totter to the lip of the cliff.