had this, some irrational, for-all-seasons-fashionabletrash to recycle and rehash and thrash
and smash
bashful, this, until
at last I fill
the one we
called homey
rough 'n tough at-home feeling of skeletonbonekey ennui
aloft 'n soft feeling of felt phony
and hold me
why don't we
take a time so slowly
wholly holed but holy
and rock our backs and forths, staying stony
forgetting our friends and vetting our cronies
(regretting our fiends and get-back-at baloney)
and kill the chill that stills our will
and grow - ly
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