Mocking the Oregonites

Mocking the Oregonites with wanton frilull trickery of their decent,

We won the war in its delirious night, a tapered light,

With lions in the night, yeah!

A purple feud of masked-mongrels splinter through the parkway,

Beside the ancient lake, summoning up monsters in slippery tongues.

Amongst themselves, the serpents have the power, mowed-out field

At their command. I dragged one into the lake, and they hissed, their vacuous betrayal.