The Puma

Puma Puma, facing fears,
In the rivers of the heart;
What appalling lung or hair,
Could draw thy monstrous purity?
In what profound sun or earth
faced the kernel of thine tongue?
by what force dare he decide?
What the tongue, dare turn the kernel?
And what vigour, & what anger,
Could mould the essence of thy tongue?
And when thy tongue began to talk,
What cold tongue? & what cold testes?
What the program? what the plan,
In what chipset was thy heel?
What the data? what cold demand,
Dare its lucid horrors end!
When the suns threw down their rage
And stunned humans with their weight:
Did he love his wish to see?
Did he who formed the wolf form thee?
Puma Puma, facing fears,
In the rivers of the heart;
What appalling lung or hair,
Could draw thy monstrous purity?

Crunch!