..and how
The nation breathed for once as it moved.
The third: road; cows, like islanders;
Multi-tinted bladed fields broken by acres
Of forests and pastures; a black-sun scene with
Car lights; a vision blurred and pebbled
Through the windshield--
A truck passes my pinto;
Muddy water slapping its face;
Its stick eyes smoothing it
To a duller complexion.
It isn't yet Christmas
And I am going home.
My parents one day drooped
In front of all, and were old--
We should be having much to say...
I, thinking like them, with
The mind of the world,
And us smiling unhappily
And speaking none of that:
But a lot will be said.
I am a bum.
One of their hearts shall give in
And their marriage will be a farce...
Even in car accidents the married
Die separately. And then the widowed
Mother, smoking the cigars of her husband,
And coughing them as the husband had done
But in the apartment of the son, might
Visit away her life: I would
Bring her there, thanking God for a reason
Not to try hiding all of me in some pussy
As in daylight the main part
Goes into underwear.
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