I Pity These Fools

so there lies the poor no
bathing in its poor glade
surrounded
by the jasmine yes men
and the ornate trellis-like hounds
which arc over them
to guide the prying eye

great and empty no
what omphalos did you set to sea
where the star in me worn flowing
would cover up the bloody mouth
of your naked affirmation
a stain which is forced from the vine
to lie

and which no will you echo
with your yes
argus panoptes lemur thigh as
jasmine yes men make an orchid
for your face
a mask to enter grace
so there lies the poor no

as if the first and final astronaut
were a butterfly
grinning through its
clearly difficult answer
an ornate and trellis-like echo
in which you bathe
the prying eye yes abandoned


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