Boundaries lay stacked 

through perimeters of grassy patches

ritualistic blazes spread 

with hazy air making 

the flowery bundles of trees 

look like a blur

the old and wise click their spoons

as the young play their cards

of lust toward the pretty Madame 

who yearns for more behind the back

of who they wed

called for rain

heaves past the intersecting hills

as glowing trees blacken through the muck

spoons get slick and blazing branches are smoldered 

the wise

the young

the pretty

must go in for the night

but still the lovers swander the night away

in houses filled with wretched dirt

as moaning daughters 

leave their men to tuck in the children

a wise one struts in soaked britches 

with spoons tucked away in the pockets

purity behold my country

thats all

but thou shall leave these homes

to rest