Bank Holiday

I

The houses on a seesaw rush

In the giddy sun's hard spectrum, push

The noisy heat's machinery;

Like flags of colored heat they fly.

The wooden ripples of the smiles

Suck down the houses, then at whiles,

Grown suctioned like an octopus,

They throw them up against us,

As we rush by on coloured bars

Of sense, vibrating flower-hued stars,

With lips like velvet drinks and winds

That bring strange Peris to our minds.

II

Seas are roaring like a lion; with their

Wavy flocks Zion,

Noses like a scimitar,

Hair a brassy bar

Come

to

The sun's drum. Though

Light green water's swim their

daughters, lashing

with their eel-sleek-locks

The furred

Heads

Of mermaids that occurred,

Sinking to the cheap beds.

Blurred

Legs, like trunks of tropical

Plants, rise up and, over all.

Green as a conservatory

Is the light..........another story..........

It has grown too late for life!

Put on your gloves and take a drive!