ABSTRACT
Plant your head in a pot, my love | and grow quite twelve feet tall | train your knees to raspberry cane | or lean against the wall. || The earth will teach you well, my love | what never can be said | that deep black earth you breathe, my love | is how to feed your head. || And when you are quite mad, my love | not any human shape | take your head from the pot, my love | and see the wise men gape. jx
