An asphodel

O dear sweet rosy
Unattainable desire
 ...How sad, no way
To change The mad
Cultivated asphodel, The
 Visible reality…
 
And skin’s appalling
 Petals - How inspired
To be so lying In The living
Room drunk naked
 And dreaming, In The absence
 Of electricity…
Over and over heating The low Root
 Of The asphodel,
Gray fate…
 
Rolling In generation
 on The flowery couch
As on a bank In Arden -
 My Orly rose tonight’ s The treat
 Of my own nudity.