'Why keep a cow when I can buy,'
Said he, 'the milk I need,'
I wanted to spit in his eye
Of selfishness and greed;
But did not, for the reason he
Was stronger than I be.

I told him: ''Tis our human fate,
For better or for worse,
That man and maid should love and mate,
And little children nurse.
Of course, if you are less than man
You can't do what we can.

'So many loving maids would wed,
And wondrous mothers be.'
'I'll buy the love I want,' he said,
'No squally brats for me.'
. . . I hope the devil stoketh well
For him a special hell.

When asked about my Temperament
I’d often tell a Lie—
For I was Stable through and through
It’s not as if I’d Die:

A Light was on inside my head
So Bright as Tungsten burned
But glass had shattered long ago—
As heartless season turned

The Winter was a weathered friend
Until it showed its back
The Light flicked off inside my head—
The Candlestick burned Jack

For weeks I’d drift along the Pitch
Still like a Deadened pond
A Wasted Lead* insomniac
They Begged me to Respond

The Lake it stretches down a Mile
The fish all Glassy-Eyed
My Filament sinks to the sand
I pray to God for Tide