As I doze, a cock crows in my skull 
and a lark lofts singing between my eyes: 

a building of rooks caws in my hair 
close to the steeples of my ears: 

cattle are lowing in my bosom 
and sheep and lambs bleat in my heart: 

wagon-wheels rumble in my buttocks 
and horse-bells jingle in my teeth: 

a ploughboy’s  whistle goes through my spleen 
and pigs are snorting in my belly: 

gobble, gobble, gobble! goes my blood 
and yap, yap, yap! go my lungs. 

Then something wakes me with a start . . . 
It is only the stillness of my little room.