A farmer asked for permission

To plant an onion.

Three deserts, four seasons,

And seven rains passed

While the onion remained growing

In the farmer’s request

On the desk of the man

With the distinguishing mark.

 

A wife told her husband,

“We are about to die.

Go and buy us some fresh air.”

In the market

Her husband was unable

To find any local air

So he was forced

To buy canned air

That agents sell for the man

With the distinguishing mark.

 

For dead people

Rose up from their graves

And spread out in four directions.

After a journey of seventy light-dreams,

The resurrected four

Gathered in one grave

In the shadow of a tombstone

Bearing a picture

Of the man

With the distinguishing mark.