Small oures, small morsels,
“Dovwer the poisoun, my love,
‘Waelde teu hes
gyfts vor teres’,
a seied.” sotto voce mezza voiz
Haf an idyll so youu thynck some voices
unnamed assume and spil owtt thr strang word.
That son af The House of Tantalos be head. Recurring
similarity wer whyle hysteron proteron
oght to allow thet shadowy time toward
himselph an the breþer servend himm (ov whom no thing or
thr moment is writ except what es conflicts in brothers).
Theystes is corsying his brothir annd reffers to hym
sum ‘my love’, then he re-lives ech word say’d
whyl hes oghne cild beth served. I lawȝh harder þan wit
to find us entend, in smal ours, to warm up
this meal o’ Thyestes dressing, conjuering his brother.
