In The Golden Canvas Poem by Marcel Aouizerate

Misfortune befell me in a volcanic setting,
Pestilence took hold of my limbs one by one,
And the fading maidens, and the barbarian girls
All telling me if you come, do it in the mouth of culture,
Do it in the absence of gale when winds
Abate on negroid beaches, do it in the mouth
Of love when love befalls you. My name is
Anger which will die when I'll leave this world
Ignorant and rebellious. Misfortune befell me
In a reality TV show, I lied the truth, I told
The oxymoronic truth of why and when and how,
My name is doomsday of the domestic sort
I am wide enough to choke a square well
Or the avid mouth of love or that no less avid
Of spinning demise. Misfortune befell me
As I rode the wooden horse and expanded
When I rode the stone lion, I fell stupider
As I said goodbye to gutters. But consider this,
I came in a volcanic era only to say goodbye
To you. Goodbye to you, oh the impossible
And goodbye to the passage of caravans
In the eye of the needle, weaving
The gigantic, moronic, canvas of you.