Thought I may regret
Encaging my own silhouette--
And I may still maintain
That boards without irons
--and the other way around--
Are used in vain--
But I'd never utter
A Crossing Word
to you.
Never.
For by doing so,
I anger you
and kill myself
and kill my chances three
(Where Chance can play the Fiddle)

I'll never be merry,
Married,
Or the Virgin Mary,
But I'll be old--
And some old kind of soul--
Which is good enough for me

10/02/2001

Posted on 10/02/2001
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