Seen, Sat I On

Peerless swears, blues ditty, gyrate dance lesson tears,
pick out a pair least blessed, fouler there. Be men, new
rivers, gun-sent. Terror laugh ray, cheer a misspied
jail, a seer’s eye leaving, banging matter anew.

Genie pearl, airy pass, genie pen’s airy reign:
Ma’s lamb, our infinite meme, entered a dance lame.
It gyrates low. Imbibe. In loin. Come, un-bohemian
pear lane tour heroes. Come have a cone for me.

Homophonic translation of Arthur Rimbaud’s “Sensation”

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