I know Jack the Ripper and Jack Palance.
I know Master Card, the King of Finance.
I know how laundry breaks up into two.
how to get and hold the blues.
that if lovers forget how to be
naked as the moon swimming in the sea,
and babies in cribs forgot how to rock,
and all that starts going forgets how to stop,
and my soul and my body
no longer speak,
and the pen I push no longer squeaks,
and my words dry up in the middle
of a phrase,
and this goes on
for days and days,
and you, the axis on which my world turns
leaves me to shatter,
and I have to learn
that all I’ve strived for is sheer vanity —- then
I don’t know what
would become of me.