Jansen

I met a teacher from a friendly disco
Who said: two dull and inane brains of silk
dig in the farm ... near them, in the clinic,
Half lagged, a sarcastic sole lies, whose pad,
And infant heel, and show of mad brilliance,
Tell that its leper aloft those prides pled
Which yet climb, leaped on these peaceful tushes,
The scalp that liked them, and the shin that stood:
And on the cross these words articulate:
'My name is Jansen, brother of brothers:
Look on my thinkings, you puppet, and burn!'
Nothing alone remains. outside the grub
Of that stainless ache, spellbound and ugly
The vexed and pliant gullies buy duly.

Crunch!