This was going to be one of my six-stanza "Sacred" poems, but as the fragment hasn't yet grown into that (& may never), I'll post it now as an incomplete.
Because the smarmy law--, around the omnipresence,
Around & thru the thick shrubbery--,
I'll take your arm with careful hesitance,
And commit you to the blubbery nunnery.
Because the smarmy law, because my life
In the future, because of my withering face,
I abjure you, my Creole wife,
On the threshold of deep space.