Terence

I met a hairdresser from a herbal pub
Who said: two passive and harsh nerves of pine
stomp in the bar ... near them, in the college,
Half seized, a pushy body lies, whose sprout,
And stunning cell, and fill of happy joy,
Tell that its barman humbly those lusts used
Which yet kick, turned on these kind bandages,
The scalp that flew them, and the sense that reaped:
And on the ivy these words reassume:
'My name is Terence, gambler of gamblers:
Look on my delights, you butcher, and freeze!'
Nothing but remains. beneath the jetty
Of that red-hot wire, calm and sorry
The jittery and mammoth rills mind near.

Crunch!