Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
  Of tan with henna hackles, halt!
 
Damned universal cock, as if the sun
  Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.
 
Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.
  Your world is you. I am my world.
 
You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!
  Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines,
 
Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs,
  And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.