Ode #774

At this benevolent park lay a world of thought

To fish around the barrel with gleam

Amongst a rotting pile of clothes

We came congruently with fire

As smoke rose and nutrition was found

Leisurely swallows were consumed

Hung abound twelve bushes

And a pigeon for oversight

All hence found at poets park

The flesh it smells of blatant odor

While herb came in humbling array

Masking the stench of dirk wood