Poem: The Kamyl (from William Blake's cutting room floor)

This was a fun one to write. I looked up camels in the dictionary and encyclopedia and jotted down any potential play on words I could think of and then jigsaw pieced them into the stanzas. I seem to do better writing verse when I have a closed structure to fill.

The Kamyl

 

 

 

Kamyl Kamyl, grim and grand,

Traipsing over barren land;

What abnormal needle's eye

Could fame thy faithful simile?

 

In what destination waits

Vengeance of thine salivates?

In what heat dost thou perspire?

Does thine back retreading tire?

 

And what shoulder, & what hip

Could steer thee, stubborn swaying ship?

And dost thine sailing shade thee green,

Thou mellow dromedary queen?

 

What oasis? What the spot?

In what clearance Kamyl lot?

What the mileage? What the hell?

Gallons from a wishing well?

 

Dally llamas, vicunas

Who stop to smell Kamyl-lias,

Downing crates of One-a-Day

To tough it through on curds and whey?

 

Kamyl Kamyl, grand and grim,

Filtered pack on femur slim;

What infernal force so dry,

If stars thy mark, wouldst walk the sky?