I

Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos
    Climbed to the top of a wall.
  And they sate to watch the sunset sky
  And to hear the Nupiter Piffkin cry
    And the Biscuit Buffalo call.
They took up a roll and some Camomile tea,
And both were as happy as happy could be--
      Till Mrs. Discobbolos said,--
      'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
      'It has just come into my head--
'Suppose we should happen to fall! ! ! ! !
        'Darling Mr. Discobbolos

II

'Suppose we should fall down flumpetty
    'Just like pieces of stone!
  'On the thorns,--or into the moat!
  'What would become of your new green coat
    'And might you not break a bone?
'It never occurred to me before--
'That perhaps we shall never go down any more!'
      And Mrs. Discobbolos said--
      'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
      'What put it into your head
'To climb up this wall?--my own
        'Darling Mr. Discobbolos?'

III

Mr. Discobbolos answered,--
    'At first it gave me pain,--
  'And I felt my ears turn perfectly pink
  'When your exclamation made me think
    'We might never get down again!
'But now I believe it is wiser far
'To remain for ever just where we are.'--
      And Mr. Discobbolos said,
      'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
      'It has just come into my head--
'----We shall never go down again--
        'Dearest Mrs. Discobbolos!'

IV

So Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos
    Stood up and began to sing,
  'Far away from hurry and strife
'Here we will pass the rest of life,
    'Ding a ****, ding ****, ding!
'We want no knives nor forks nor chairs,
'No tables nor carpets nor household cares,
      'From worry of life we've fled--
      'Oh! W! X! Y! Z!
      'There is no more trouble ahead,
'Sorrow or any such thing--
        'For Mr. and Mrs. Discobbolos!'

I

The Owl and the *****-cat went to sea
  In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
  Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
  And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely *****! O ***** my love,
  What a beautiful ***** you are,
    You are,
    You are!
What a beautiful ***** you are!'

II

***** said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
  How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
  But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
  To the land where the ****-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
  With a ring at the end of his nose,
    His nose,
    His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

III

'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
  Your ring?'Said the Piggy,'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
  By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
  Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
  They danced by the light of the moon,
    The moon,
    The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

There was an Old Man of Vienna,
Who lived upon Tincture of Senna;
When that did not agree,
He took Camomile Tea,
That nasty Old Man of Vienna.

Oh, will you ever return to me,
My wild first force, will you return
When the old madness comes to
Blacken in me and to burn
Slow in my brain like a slow fire
In a blackened brazier - dull
like a smear of blood,
Humid and hot evil, slow-sweltering
up in a flood!
Oh, will you not come back, my fierce song?
Jubilant and exultant, triumphing over
the huge wrong
of that slow fire of madness that feeds
on me - the slow mad blood
thick with its hate and evil, sweltering
up in its flood!
Oh! will you not purge it from me -
my wild lost flame?
Come and restore me, save me from the
intolerable shame
Of that huge eye that eats into my
Naked body constantly
And has no name,
Gazing upon me from the immense and
Cruel bareness of the sky
That leaves no mercy of concealment
That gives no promise of revealment
And that drives us on forever with its
lidless eye
Across a huge and houseless level of
a planetary vacancy
Oh, wild song and fury, fire and flame,
Lost magic of my youth return, defend
me from this shame!
And Oh! You golden vengeance of bright
song
Not cure but answer to earth's wrong

There once lived a girl in New York,
she really enjoyed eating pork.
Her friends were disgusted
that she so lusted
after eating pork without a fork.

Google someone
on the Good Internet
it could make you smile.

Like your shy neighbor
the one who doesn’t talk much
not a lot of eye contact
at the mailbox
the one who practices his violin
at the oddest hours.
Google him and you discover

he has a glass eye
result of his heroism
in the Na Trang Valley Massacre in Nam

he has an M.A. degree in divinity

his wife and children died in a housefire
when he was away on a business trip
some years ago

and all you can do
in your shameful paranoid way
is google him
to find the dirt

but there isn’t any
and you wish
there was something
sweet about you
on the Good internet.

Dear Pablo, as I look over
my soaking body, wet, with patches
of dirt, blotched and raw bleeding,
the clouds turn in my yellowed eyes
in order to love you, my Pablo.  
You, who made me feel radiant.  
As I am the sea,  I fish for you,
rolling in mud, and becoming
mountain, I topple for your toes
who'd dig in deep and itch my aching

breast to sleep.  My dreamful-drowsy
birds, rake the skies, rush-out like nets
wanting you on their wings, my poem.
Pablo, I loved you so when you said,
my flowers were little stars to pick,
and that loneliness was a train who waits
in a far-away station, and how, my most
minuscule attributes — a cat, a pear,
the atom, you praised, in odes, heaped
like showers hailed from heaven, as fresh-

water you reigned from the other side
of tears, and temper'd my salt, my green,
murky life.  Dearest Pablo, since you've gone,
my breath has the emptiness that hides under
stone.  And the blue-winds crossing, my life-
less age, they are nothing but long waves,
keening,   —  Nay   —  rood   —   ahhh!
Since you have left me.  And my trees,
they forget how to grow,
my song, my only,
Pablo.