Africa

This bike I see Whose gleamy flanks Abraded with time And the engen that rumbled Across these,once,Arcadian lives With might and main Is but drabness This is the land of abundance Fertile in women blowing hot and cold Where men who heap coals of fire Are rarely gazed upon This is the land of abundance Brazen with Jezebels With men whose heels of Archilles Is the guzzling of malted hops Now I sit beside three-legged creatures As they,longingly,narrate about halcyon days.