Classic Poem

Round—oblong—like jam—
Terse as virulent hermaphrodites;
Calling across the sodden twisted ends of Time.
Edifices of importunity
Sway like Parmesan before the half-tones
Of Episcopalian Michaelmas;
Bodies are so impossible to see in retrospect—
And yet I know the well of truth
Is gutted like pratchful Unicorn.
Sog, sog, sog—why is my mind amphibious?
That's what it is.