a pity

Morning crooks over a soot-covered sill 
looking like a millstone fresh from the mill. 

There really isn't much to see.

The one that I love - doesn't love me. 

 

Work and play and I forget the rest

means nothing at all when you're 27th best.
Or the fifty-first.  Or four hundred and seventy-three. 

 

The one that I love - doesn't love me.

 

Hair loss, weight loss, last minute's style
everything goes thin and tatty after a while.

What does it matter when you're small as a flea? 

The one that I love - doesn't love me.

 

Tramp in the weeds, tramping the lawn,
the world feels shifty when you've been put-upon

(and everywhere you step, someone's had a wee)

The one that I love - doesn't love me.

 

 

The sun over there can go h

                                              a

                                                n

                                                  g itself.

 
These books look better in dust on the shelf.

The moon's a teabag sunk in a radium-colored sea.

 

The one that I love  - doesn't love me.

 

I'll write trite verses a penny a line 
and sell them to you for a diamond mine.
Then I'll blow up the mine with a thousand pounds of TNT. 

The one that I love - doesn't love me.

 

Shred all the letters and rip the arms off the clocks 
choke every dog on his leash and take a piss off the public docks. 

Make an ass of myself. And a mess the world would pay to see.

 

The one that I love - doesn't love me.