Old plant of Asia - Mutilated vine Holding earth's leaping sap In every stem and shoot That lopped off, sprouts again - Why should you seek a plateau walled about, Whose garden is the world?
Do you remember Honey-melon moon Dripping thick sweet light Where Canal Street saunters off by herself among quiet trees? And the faint decayed patchouli - Fragrance of New Orleans...
Undulant rustlings, Of oncoming silk, Rhythmic, incessant, Like the motion of leaves... Fragments of color In glowing surprises... Pink inuendoes Hooded in gray Like buds in a cobweb...