I’m
too long in the tooth for this game
I
got nothing in my pocket like a flower
The
whole countryside appears to beg
Color
from my gray pant cuffs what?
Between
profit and ruin some of them
Beg
so ill-fatedly among ill-fated heroes
Their
eyes bloom with verses yet
Unwritten
words that sing of sorrows
Full
of hate and despair bitter things
We
don’t see how it is with us we
Wield
a simple lasso for a single hope
A
desire to articulate the vowel of stars
To
sing more sweetly than the taut
Bow
of irrelevancy in velocities of chance
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