I Have Long Had This Premonition Of

This Cruel Age Has Deflected Me.

I Have Long Had This Premonition Of A Bright Day And A Deserted House

Now No One Will Listen To Songs. The Prophesied Days Have Begun. Latest Poem Of Mine, The World Has Lost Its Wonder, Don't Break My Heart, Don't Ring Out.

Not, Not Mine: It's Somebody Else's Wound; I Could Never Have Borne It. So Take The Thing That Happened, Hide It, Stick It In The Ground; Whisk The Lamps Away.

Call Me A Sinner, Mock Me Maliciously: I Was Your Insomnia, I Was Your Grief.