I wake miserable and half-hearted
and apathetic...

The women in a leopard skirt
with bruised legs and tarantula eyes...

After most of the day, away in my drudge
I fair my way home to spend it alone...

The atmosphere spreads under stars in their choir
With piebald black clouds to mull and admire...

When day was Broad and spirits out
The horse would sleep under the umbrageous trees...