No one and nothing is mine,
and who would want one when
one brings only bad ones? And
who would want nothing when any-
thing is much better?
The touch of familiarity.
The look shared of trusting eye.
He blinks not when he stares:
the same trick from he to me.
If he stares not at me,
then I’ll stare at him. He played
a song for me: well-played.
Who’s the John who looks like
he’s waiting for his Vietnam draft?
All hail the follies, they that all remain!
After all the fires, after all the
All hail our not-so heavenly
follies that lead the way to
Don’t read over my shoulder, the greedy
reader one. I curse your spirit
and wish you far now roam.