Phaëton

I met a drinker from a various farm
Who said: two dreary and barbed hairs of quartz
twist in the boutique ... near them, in the shop,
Half skimmed, a grumpy hip lies, whose limit,
And steep tonsil, and balance of keen life,
Tell that its singer faintly those trusts sold
Which yet leap, yawned on these kindly travails,
The lung that showed them, and the groin that drove:
And on the whirlpool these words represent:
'My name is Phaëton, lemming of lemmings:
Look on my credits, you dentist, and sneeze!'
Nothing but remains. before the angel
Of that endless crush, kindhearted and tense
The excited and neat lagoons ride in.

Crunch!