What in the world/ is what is the world/ is what the world is now./A flicker from a battered lamp/in dim lit movies/About the tracks of a tramway funneled/ to the jump of a green electric. /More certain than electric, /with mind determined /to keep apace with sinners/and their orchard garlands. /Marooned themselves in gentle labor/deliver parcels full of candle wax /to partake of gardens they resemble./They loft their parcels /on bloody tracks/ use tools to crack/the nearness of the glass.
Confounded
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Poetry in Motion 