By a pool
Of amber water
sticky smell
Of carrion kind
Integrates with nature slowly
Green fields I offer you
Snowy mountains in present air
The sunflower tounge
On a [bad word] the Saturn king
To grant the man on the beach
Surfing on his orbital rings
frightened mental vortex we'll be
sun we seek, a sun we flee
scar
Upon Mother Earth
nebular each
The Desolate One