Even my alarm clock diminishes
What sherpa would take me through the harsh snow
Patient, rugged, through seven candlesticks
All-covering coat of wool when I’m called
To, shaken, leave the windy foothills home
& exporting myself, centered and sprawled
Enchant the snake to rise from soddy loam
For I am captain of the windjammer;
Material consequence is beneath
What lofty waves befall the hammer
Of my soldiers’ whining & gnashing teeth
Brrrriiiiinngggg!
Lo! I am slain. The alarm clock fashions
A sword that cuts through imagination
Can anyone think up a better ending to this?