Out, go out to Lambeth Walk.

Trees there tremble, flowers fumble

with their zippers, afire,

as you pass

                   in desire.

 

Pollination proliferates as

perennials go slowly

                             blind.

Their hands drop off.

 

The fuzzy bee

rubs his hairy legs

in expectation.

 

He gives the kiss of love

to fainting flowers

as you pass

                  in ecstasy.

 

And birdlets atwitter

swallow worms with glee

as you pass

                    by me.