I breathe the noxious air because it is there 
Set free at the last moment 
                                                           a green cloth folds 

Here the noiseless mind 
Is like a quiet wind
Blowing across the mottled stones

Like the stars
I’ve been wandering alot

A paper chair

So gay on your lovely head 
The hat cradles the specialty 
Of the house brand-new 

I was thinking where are we all going when we were 
Going through the snow on the ground, underbrush 
Beneath like the New England personality going 

On Sunday afternoon in Georgia I had nothing to do
So I sent myself back to Georgia underwater
In the traditional manner of the English