I Have Turned Loose

I have turned loose of everything, I sometimes think, And it’s close to being true. Whatever remains isn’t much, Doesn’t justify my attitude, Won’t rectify my course And in hard times won’t even help me Rationalize my way out of a paper bag! I’m trapped and haven’t hung on to much Beyond the pettiness of the physical world. Not much of that, either, but Any character or any morality or any well-being, That’s certainly all gone to hell, Or quite diminished, and that’s as good as gone. Gonna buy a new dump-truck, Gonna Make a new plan, Learn to spell my name right, Empty my trousers of sand. Whatever else there is, I misspent it or I abused it Or maybe I simply misspelled it. I outlasted some parts of myself in an ill wind That blew no one any good, yet There is no merit or gain in any of that! I’ve reached an age where near companions Say, “You’ve made it this far, so why worry?” I don’t know why and I don’t know why not, either. I wish I could give it all up, Just fling aside my attachment to it Like it was a soiled old work-sock, But I can never pitch it far enough! It lingers still! Gonna buy a new dump-truck, Gonna Make a new plan, Learn to spell debt and debtor right, Empty my bedpan of sand. rcs. Current draft: 2/8/2010 Created on 1/15/2010 5:00 PM