In the pollen furred woods, the air floats with fair fauna,
white squidlettes with poppy seed eyes,
centipedal thorns, satin puff-bellied flowers,
ready to suck in any powdery
swarm of nits,
a brook choked with so much citrus algae,
it glugs like lava, which is sipped
by a long-nosed creature
who uses its glass-twinging antlers to break
away a raft of branches,
to reveal a colony, men as big as the O
on this page,
muscular and ranting, then sleeping,
then swallowed.
