Suddenly, I heard some talking
How they were opining, confining – quarantining
 It was arithmetic, bolshevik, nonstick!
I crave the alive, adjunct, adjacent
All my fears within me interlocking
That much sitting – that much fuming

All my soul within me wafting
I threw my dwelling upon the floor
What could there be, more purely yours?
That flat, flat cottaging
It threw its ghost against its habits
The ownership brought such sorrow
That immovable owner – that irremovable owner

Deep into that darkness lofting
And so you came gently sniffling
Only this and property
And the enclosure never signing
I crave the smiling, speaking snick
There stood only deceitful arithmetic