Tropical Malady

There is no uncomphrended

Down in front

Under this tomb's inward arches

Beyond sunset and dawn

I am safe from living

And always falling

I claw at the empty air

I feel nothing of the embrace

I will never plummer

When there is always land to fail me

Long after that otherness has been

Exchanged up and over

Hoeizion's ramparts

I crawl back to the recurring burial

Which parrots what I do, what I told