Why don't you

trip the switch to Limerick?

Beam your changelings into gold

Why don't you 

jewel your chameleons

in a monastery?

Because I drank 

the cup of another tribe

not yours 

not your clover wine

My tribe 

has furlongs 

corn and bayous

Hurricanes and sweetmeat

still battling afar alongside Ali La Pointe

I read of Neptune's ghost ships

a bracelets of dreamers lining

The deepest southern seas

All men bleed there.