Jenni-jardin, down petals
knowing of pale
samples that are that Lethe’s bruise.
Papaveracea, your all-talk
of we, deep weed, we own something.
Will poppy punching opium breathe
and eat jenni down?
Don’t. Useless, like your roses.
For just like seeds, such they leave,
a heroin, and a perfume for
your round, tiresome, seeds-nonpareil.
Unsuspecting, you no-equal, simmer.