Mind's forensic lays out matters neatly,
but all the juices do dry out of 'em.
Dream's a liar, yet rhapsodies sweetly;
her thieving birds seize relics, fly with 'em.
Within us, undead and recycled too.
The soy-sauced egg's always just as tasty;
leave undead to their nightmare milieux;
feel May savors pushing up your daisy.
The dunghill scarab sacred to the sun
takes snapshots of the galaxy by night*
and rolls the ball through underworlds to dawn
by star chart's lofty principle of light.
What higher guidance offers scarab takes.
Roll-on our dunghill hearts, till something wakes.
.......................
It's a hybrid - Shakespearean type in its (imperfect) rhyme but with a very separate octad / sestet feel.
*Title taken from Wordworth's 'Tintern Abbey'
*Recent research on the matter of the scarab's snapshot of the Milky Way at Science Daily - May 12th 2016:-
'The discovery that dung beetles use the light of the Milky Way to navigate in the world has received much praise. Researchers at Lund University in Sweden have now taken a new step in understanding the existence of these unique beetles: when the beetles dance on top of a ball of dung, they simultaneously take a photograph -- a snapshot -- of how celestial bodies are positioned.'
