Forget to be hushed, to hush oneself
pass hash on the rooftop terrace
of some clown motel or hotel-on-sea
stay paranoid til the first utterance of blue humid dawn
To name a thing is to know it.
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If you are sleeping now, mama,
that is good,
Strolling down Thayer Street in the early morning,
Amy’s dogged by that constant thought –
can you really start a life over?
Crawling through the space between, I forget myself.
Nothing easier, you say, than to pinch a flower at the stem.
When there’s nothing to do, when I’m bored or dreary
I’ll sit still and watch from the window, I’ll wait
for the weather to change, which it will.
I will not idle live and I will not idle die
I cannot rest until you make a mess with me
