Omnivorous

is a variant of the ancient mover who's

stray as the upturned Word

—and flung with thumb-pulsion across!—

It's the hideous you know

& enough to make you die

for what moves the idea of it, my dear

comes twixt & tween:

is a tic in the fur or an intolerable scaly

note of so- and- so--

right terrible tetchy screech of bone (time?)

& harder than you'll ever be

"So how do you know we're not

in a black-hole, right now, stretched, dying?"

Right again, dear!