| "I couldn't hold on," I thought,
Yet clearly I have done so, so far,
As far as it goes and so forth...
What will it all mean
When it all goes down?
A poet is sometimes
Just a fella who can go into a trance
Without good sense or without bad tremors,
So what would it mean to those of us who've gone there
Without taking a lunch, to just admit it
And not pull strings or a stunt
And not take a break from all the pain and all the ache...
Oh how good she looked in tight blue jeans
Or in her best red dancing pants!
You can't escape, we won't get by,
We're a dream and adrift in a dangerous dance
And all along we are alone
And always going upward in that beautiful trance... |
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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)