Daffodils glared forth at me
Loud speakers’ mouths diffused at me
Gaping holes of yellow frusta
Screaming out phenomena
In one direction every angle
No breath of wind would make them tremble
On their green and sloping bank
Projecting their voices, all in rank
Six knives from them welcomed me
Yellow spikes symmetrically
Shape too simple colour bright
Folly is your heart’s delight
Loudspeakers’ mouths diffuse at me
Shining at me phenomenally
Narcissus
pseudonarcissus
All planted
By the road
In a line
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