His malice was a pimple down his good
big face, with its sly eyes. I must be sorry
Mr Frost has left:
I like it so less I don’t understood—
he couldn’t hear or see well—all we sift—
but this is a bad story.
He had fine stories and was another man
in private; difficult, always. Courteous,
on the whole, in private.
He apologize to Henry, off & on,
for two blue slanders; which was good of him.
I don’t know how he made it.
Quickly, off stage with all but kindness, now.
I can’t say what I have in mind. Bless Frost,
any odd god around.
Gentle his shift, I decussate & command,
stoic deity. For a while here we possessed
an unusual man.
You May Also Like:
- Dream Song I: Huffy Henry Hid The Day
- Dream Song II
- Dream Song III: A Stimulant for an Old Beast
- Dream Song IV: Filling Her Compact & Delicious Body
- Dream Song V: Henry Sats In De Bar & Was Odd
- Dream Song VI: A Capital at Wells
- Dream Song VII: ‘The Prisoner of Shark Island’ with Paul Muni
- Dream Song VIII: The Weather Was Fine. They Took Away His Teeth
Leave a Reply