d'un chariot hippomobile

NOTÉ: BELGIQUE – SEPTEMBRE 1625 – 6:13 p.m.

finally it smells like something, like our parts, our plane [parallel]
some idiot has since scattered
around shanties as if it was some idea, aesthetically speaking

the lack of light, heels
my eyes exhaust overexposed & yours would if they were
less like the small tarts

of flap-dragon; the bowl on the table; torch light; hilly spans
we have touched;
where wine is frantic / walls ooze brown motif here but there

they are common men who drink brandy, scotch / not bourbon
and would have cindered these Pedantics.  oh, the brevity
one feels after well fed well clad and hung stocks of folk

but, even without sight,
I assure you, my friend, it was a time you would do well to keep
in fore- or hind- or whatever ways you are moved

when delirious with poison cup; I remember—
you stumbled but stayed well in their key

[with] his blue and lapping tongue / [many of] you will be stung /
[for] he snaps [at] all that comes / snatching [at his] feasts of plums /
snip! snap! Dragon!