WHITE ENNUI:

The cold stalks quivering
in the mind of the dew;
Nothing detracting from
the idleness.
Only the ennui of
a strange and singular
judgement.
O how to live when the lilies
must sap up the funereal
dust of pines, and the coffins
are filled with tepid weeds?
O how to smart the blood drip
of a bald form of belonging
that denotes simplicity
to the ageing beast?