If maybe we could form a little group
Say something like Bloomsbury and we all
Could write biographies of each other
What I mean is we could have a movement
And all write in gourd-shaped stanzas
Sergei knows a brewer’s son who paints
And he thinks might pay for publishing 
He did a picture called The Conscious Wound
We’ll get together and work out a Myth 
If maybe we could form a little group
We might find a way around this bore
Of blushing unseen in the desert air.