A doctor for disease
Or: Oh hell the yelping
My body will drag, and oh hell, I’m content with it.
I amuse myself with the thoughts you amuse yourself with.
Good old morphine taught me Walden and his leisure
in curing his brain of the carnivores out to eat it.
Gay boys will be gay boys, ugly in the face as they
are ugly in the cell. This is Southern temperance,
housebound as a fly, lucky flier him. The second person
never bit his thumb, neurotic as all being will do,
slouching in his eyes, high on being a verb that yelps.
A person could well just crinkle and yawn, descend
to zero as best he can, go on yawning in the manner
he learned from old men all the world was taught from.