The blizzard sits in the mountains, the earthquake in the grass,
Shall I wear the deathly wind, or kiss the snake in the grass?
Windbags rant, the minions chant, a cataclysm is imminent,
Time to anoint the pirates, and bury the Sheikh in the grass.
Worker geese are stuff-taxed, that the nobles feast on foi gras,
Labourers drudge at wineries and return to slake in the grass.
Murmuring rivers, swaying crops are cloistered in barrages,
Parched, starving caravan hunt for snowflakes in the grass.
Skies are sold, the winds are bought, the earth beneath is wagered,
Doused breaths, fettered steps: such are at stake in the grass.
Uma for an ounce of wine they will undress many a vineyard,
Soaked with deathly odour are the crusted mud cakes in the grass.