In your forest primeval
Hairy prickly trunks
Rise up side by side
From rank fern fronds
With sticky palms open
Onto swelling blossoms
Sending unctuous jam
Into vast vaporous skies.
Mother mucks Sky Father up
Whose pointy vertex peak
Is swallowed in her vortex,
That spiral fluid in her restricted
Itching crawly roomy space.
Is it vortex’ spark in vertex?
Or what, or what, or what next?
Oh words of aerial mountain
Dip into her green-shadow pool
Float like milky flower-blooms
Bamboo thickets all abound
Fecund stagnant lands alive.
And then it disolves……………
David Gilmour
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