Revised sonnet #223A
The carnivores a perfect help to herb
The simulation something otherwise
The hunters lust you feel unfair you curb
Youre not a connoisseur of flattened flies
You might ignore the evidence of eyes
The garden gloves on fungus spores and germs
The stinky earth and nymphs at shovel prise
The guts of snails infected full of worms
The golden sun the silver moon affirms
As sparks in seams of earth and sky theyre right
Theyre equal alchemies in total terms
The blue a lot of proof of little white
And while you die you mustnt weep and whinge
The hypocrite your life a killing binge
Chorus whinge complain grouse
