Where do the wrecks of our children lie???????????????????????????????? Lukewarm as a silent draught in saturated heads Yellowed in smoothness of apples with silk so ancient and in vermouth so cheap mixed with the chlorine water of the city where do the wrecks of our children lie lukewarm & yellowy & tremulous just like an archangel's gesture which we use for forcing them to leave us for ages or for never
Yes, our expelled white and green and yellow cry thirstily yells in the desert of bedsheets and with the skin in a sweat up to our neck we struggle for that smell in the air with beginning of decay which belongs to our doubled loneliness