Ʉ=Ɨ:Ʊ◊ӫ∏·Ū·∏ӫ◊Ʊ:Ɨ=Ʉ

swirl in milk to sweeten waters, drink them with some local daughters

Ŧ.^¡ҰΦ×|Ǝ]=[E|×ΦҰ¡^.Ŧ

I have faith, but few religions, free of hate, of grief a smidgen

Ħʒȫ¦Ξ•Ūџ]ȣ[џŪ•Ξ¦ȫƸĦ

there's bread in this pudding, there's meat in this pie, the stove it malfunctioned – the roast got too dry

]-Ɵǂ∏:Ɔ·īшҰшī·C:∏ǂƟ-[

simple life and early pleasure makes for long and wholesome leisure

˙˚ºπŦ—ǂ.Ʊ∞ш∞Ʊ.ǂ—Ŧπº˚˙

biting coldness, blowing wind, look at this fine mess we're in

Ɣ¤Ūī•\˚Ʌº.Ұ.ºɅ˚/•īŪ¤Ɣ

have done with liesmithing and write no more words, this rambling is worthless these poems are turds

-Ǝ=ΞџŦΦŸ¡[◊]¡ŸΦŦџΞ=E-

so much blood and guts and gore, spilled to ground by dogs of war, can we stop it there is doubt, masses scream and plead and shout

|=Ұǂ-×πĦшΘшĦπ×-ǂҰ=|

all men have a third eye, but most still can't see, we'd much rather tug it, we use it to pee

¨¯ºƱȫŦɄ_¡Ї¡_ɄŦȫƱº¯¨

driven by the pelting rains and seeking shelter from a storm they lighted on a rundown house and stayed there trying to get warm

Ʊ-ӝ.CƗƷ—◊¦◊—ƸƗƆ.ӝ-Ʊ

the winter has fled us, the warm winds have come, let's play in the leaf-piles and dance in the sun

Їπ-ш^•-ï×Ɔ.¡.C×ï-•^ш-πЇ

except for the madness, that girl seems OK, she slept on my futon, she promised to stay

Ɵ|Ĥ^Ωџ¤¡ȱ¡¤џΩ^Ĥ|Ɵ

the guardsmen are skittish, we escape tonight, the signal just sounded – be quiet, no light

˙Ɏ·Ĥ'E:Ħ-ǂшǂ-Ħ:Ǝ'Ĥ·Ɏ˙

an orange moon rises, the legends were true, my fingernails lengthen, my hair and teeth too

Ʌ¡∏ï«Ū×Ʉ.◊.Ʉ×Ū»ï∏¡Ʌ

the eyelids are drooping, the breath it grows long, now fluff up the covers, now sing night-night song

ˆˇ^˙\._=¡×·º¯Φ¯º·×¡=_./˙^ˇˆ

three more days 'till liftoff, the rocket's a joke, it's leaning to starboard, it won't even smoke

Θ¨-¤•ӫџĦƗɅƗĦџӫ•¤-¨Θ

we just passed the apex, nothing is the same, we're breaking the boundaries of life's foul rigged game

Ұºǂ∏¤ш·Ĥ:ī:Ĥ·ш¤∏ǂºҰ

they check and they prod now, they test sniff and poke, yet none of them laugh when I loose a quick joke

Ħ.Ɨџ˚_Ψ•ï¡¤¡ï•Ψ_˚џƗ.Ħ

the banners are fallen, the gates split in twain, our homeland is ruined, all efforts in vain

Ωȣӫȫȱȯº'—×—'ºȯȱȫӫȣΩ

they're standing bedazzled, enthralled, with jaws slack, start selling them tickets so that they come back

ΞŪ—¦¤ī¤ï¤Ʊ¤ï¤ī¤¦—ŪΞ

now loosen the shackles, now unchain your rage, do not keep it bottled, or trapped in a cage

•ӫ◊Ɨ¡EĤ¥×Ʉ×¥ĤƎ¡Ɨ◊ӫ•

a winter's upon us, for good worse or bad, let's dance in the specter of good times we've had

ҰɅ=^ˇ¡π˙ˆ*¯*ˆ˙π¡ˇ^=ɅҰ

it's one thing to gander, it's two things to gain, for he who stays home knows both pleasure and pain

¤Ħ*ƹȣƟшǁшƟȣƷ*Ħ¤

a tempest approaches, the good times are here, the Fortunes will guide us, and keep our minds clear