Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
Of tan with henna hackles， halt！
Damned universal cock， as if the sun
Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.
Fat！ Fat！ Fat！ Fat！ I am the personal.
Your world is you. I am my world.
You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat！
Begone！ An inchling bristles in these pines，
Bristles， and points their Appalachian tangs，
And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.