Sonnet 52

Sonnet 52

The sad conspirator is at my hand --
He rarely calls to pease my mind to shine
Away with you! Beg and plead my command
Mocking me as a foil demands my time
Crash - rush; -- Lust and soaked -- poison pride is fine
See me! Watch me! With the crowd I will stand!
Shouts encourage want of conspired mind
To study the steps, walk on moving sand
All noses are upturn’d --Whish-ish on high
Hoods Vauxhall relates to none this new lie
My consumption bound --races-- steals for sight
And in the night God sees the madness die
Cars talk -- food walks -- folly twists -- and then
Back to foolish transparent man again.