Chapter III

A wan Erotic Rotter told me that The World could not be Saved except through Sin; A she eugenist, sexless, flabby, fat, With burst veins winding through unhealthy skin, With loose, uncertain lips preached Purity; A Preacher blasphemed just to show he dared; A dame praised Unconventionality In words her secretary had prepared; A bare-legg'd painter garbed in Leopard hide Quarreled with a Chinese lyre and scared the dogs; A slithering Dancer slunk from side to side In weird, ungodly, Oriental togs; A pale, anemic, frail Divinity Confided that she thought the great Blond Beast Himself was Art's own true Affinity; An Anarch gloomed; "The Mummy at the Feast Gets all the pleasure from the festive board!" I know not what they meant; I only wunk Within myself, and praised the great god Bunk. A Yogi sought the Silences and snored.