The verdant eyes of Happiness, flower-round,
Peep through little birds on fields of tawny pain,
Flitting up and down the bovine expanse
Of leather dressed for slaughter, marked for morbid pleasures,
Costumes sewn for those who fashion violent tastes.
And, "Everything exists to induce a deeper trance,"
So say shifting sparkles on the sequined brook
Say the fragrant folds of the floral wind.
For cruel eyes will see sights they can't envision,
And callous minds will know thoughts they can't imagine
When her eyes, peacock-tailed, through Mind redound.
Then their craven brains will bust their bursting seams,
Rending their garments and trembling as she comes.
Restoring what they stole, she will smile when it is done.