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— 39 —
Wrigley's, appendecitis, John Marin:
skyscraper soup —
Either that or a bullet !
Once
anything might have happened
You lay relaxed on my knees —
the starry night
spread out warm and blind
above the hospital —
Pah !
It is unclean
which is not straight to the mark —
In my life the furniture cats me
the chairs, the floor
the walls
which heard your sobs
drank up my emotion —
they which alone know everything
and snitched on us in the morning —
What to want ?
