I Am Crazy As Hell, But I

I Said, The Poets Are There I Hear Them Singing And Lying Around Their Round Table And Around Me Still.

Father, You Died Once, Salted Down At Fifty-nine, Packed Down Like A Big Snow Angel, Wasn't That Enough?

The Marriage Twists, Holds Firm, A Sailor's Knot.

Poets Are Sitting In My Kitchen. Why Do These Poets Lie? Why Do Children Get Children And Did You Hear What It Said?

Blind With Love, My Daughter Has Cried Nightly For Horses, Those Long-necked Marchers And Churners That She Has Mastered, Any And All, Reigning Them In Like A Circus Hand.