The houses are haunted By white night-gowns.
None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures. People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles. In red weather. And, nothing himself, beholds Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.