A Composite Place of the Mind

Rend the goddess of wisdom, Minerva,
To craft to grief on a public server;
Temerariously, I tempt long-term
Side effects of treatment for scalp ringworm.
July's corn is jaundiced with failing liver, gives under touch:
For a malady so trivial I take overmuch, overmuch.
I am tired and there is ire in my verse.
My hand perpendicular to my gait
Glances over the corn as I traverse
The Diagonal. My thoughts oscillate
Like the sound in Pisaro's A Single
Charm is Doubtful, of the Wandelweiser
School; and in the eves of this warm England
There is a composite place of wiser
Fervour, a ground loop hum and moaning wind
Blowing slant my rhymes. Epithets are pinned
To paysages, as I rend Minerva, the corn tips I clutch:
For a malady so trivial I take overmuch, overmuch.
I do not grieve for the past – my concentrated thought is such,
For a malady so trivial, I take overmuch, overmuch.
And by August, how yellow my eyes look,
Faculties altering in the sick stook.