I said I tried, andbut hanged beside the sad tree I’m
sorry. It came
time to for the Sabbath, ringing knocks like angels
bread notready for the smiles.
Suchso Simon says: of course, of course you are
a fish hoarder;
sit and nip at heads with casks of whale-piss
whine and dine, lastly, Emmaus.
I’vent Eve if that’s what you’re asking! sure
as a rib.
a breastachest from merry marriage,
Commit a ho! And that’s why I’ve said God
is only Sundays, 10-noon.