ENVY: A Theory of Social Behaviour

If you have not cast a thing, you have it: 
but you have not cast horns,
therefore you have horns.

there's a ceratine slant of light
replicating again a maypole
ribbanding refracts through
the radial transparent displacement
of the fangs about the stalking
of the argument's prolix
helix creating inspiral'd
ornaments for pathetic phallacy
is indeed the origin
and though you may know or
say that humans *(shell(
(An Ode To Dill Jam, Say) 'structure')
deep dive into what incan thrift
describes as mummy, a stylus, or
fish, all civilization in its side a kidney
covered in hide or hidden, oh how
the rondure of the stewpot
resembles a map on a globe
flat and minor and there all
friends are gaping upon
the invisible decks it knows
as stairs which hang like
smoke across the valley
and only the pinch of signal reek
and reaching here these weak cheeks
tongue as clapper waddling by choir
between war and stomachs
and the call to praise, bellow bringing
its pith hot rigging, for thought
is the fruit that rots
and matter the singing seed
clinched between those teeth
now tumbled into stink
where the burning purity
delivers all masters to the
empty ovum of glory
for there are dreams that died
between the sun and eye
and fatter they go on groaning

enter: the phallacy called

the (horns, (An Ode To Dill Jam, Say)
the) Incomparables.