So Big Ben the restless spinner
ribbed the linen underlay,
I'll discern your shadow by the pillow
as the night decays away.
You tie up the stern by pull-push,
rule the tanker raving,
you are cutting passage in the dead bush
by the belt a-waving.
Sails and palm trees rest in snow,
white alloy do have and steal -
lie forever fossilized below
permafrost's adhesive seal.
Dead by Issus can't-be-drier,
carry on your sentry stance,
stay my dream in a body-cloth of fire,
in a trilobite defense.