34. amoebic

a dearth of stamina in my pushing







for want of pluck

I’ve been abandoned

and now I’m also lame

and the two fat women pity me

and the effeminate artistic boy

is concerned that my letter-box never resounds anymore

with the dropping of anybody’s missive

and I’m told furthermore that the landlord is after me

his intentions angrily plain: eviction

eviction for my debts.




lack of funds to want of pluck added

make

a sorry happy go-lucky marginal nobody

out of me.




with roughly sixty percent of my organs still in sync

I tell myself: you bastard, enjoy

enjoy your freedom

nobody else around can say the same:

abandoned lame avoided evictable...




never now all those lunarian flights postponed

what a wealth of health

still to spend

aloft and elsewhere

where the storms are less fierce

the women never run away

the removal of tawdry veneers as easy as a flush of clear water

the obnoxious flairs of the knowledgeable easily dispensed with

and afraid, afloat, the several objects strewn by the roaring waves

the wind buffeting hither and thither the tacky superfluities

the moons and satellites hilariously bumping into each other

the whole wreckage such fun?