I was born much, much too early –
I have missed the hurley-burley
of the younger and the present
generations.
I grew up on Marx and Engels,
and the Spanish Civil War.
I truly never knew what I could do
With those new-found cunts.
Except to know that I had urges
driving me to further blunders
that have made my later life
so very sore.
I must talk of it, the ocean darkness
of my life before I gained the wisdom
that I needed to ignore those blunders
that I made before. The gore of my
misdeeds grew more and more and more,
until I was so bloody I was ready for
the seven decade end
of life that I was leading.
but that didn’t come.
And I am looking
at the young ones dancing
for which I have
no understanding.
and wishing I could speak to them
but that will never happen.
For we do not speak
the same communicating
language any more.
I must drive this from my system
I must make all of you listen to
the sighing and the crying I abhor.
I am just a small weak poet
with a fascination – an intoxication
for the words that I adore.
This is all I have to say-
Nothing more.
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