The fading pall is lifting in the East, -
black bird of night’s departing epiderm, -
surprise – the tables turn – who makes a feast
upon the early bird ? – The early worm...
The Worm
Dawn: – I sperm
on grass, ground.
Stem to stern
bound I’m found.
Vile erme worm
underground,
silent squirm
‘neath firm mound.
Slimy derm
rings me round,
while I turn
earth, - no sound.
But I churn
while men fiddle, -
‘tis the kern
of my riddle...



6 old applause
