What the earth shall bear?
Whither is the garden of Eden?
Under the sky’s foot?
Where the ships recceed like lost sheep,
On the seas south off the equator,
I look up in the sky locating a huntress,
there are deers in the parks of the countries,
running amuck amid half bolstered democracies,
Hitler is dead so is the Human hunting,
to know the difference between a slate and a chalk,
you don’t need a birth in the heaven,
neither at the other side of Eden