That's a dark trough we'd hide in. Said his sleep without @3frisson@1 in a meadow beyond Jupiter. It is no baronet of earth to stretch to -- flags planted will be only flags where no wind is. Hang me rather there or the prez's jowl on a stick when we piss on the moon as a wolf does NNW of Kobuk. I'll be south on the Bitterroot while you're up there and when you land I'll fire a solitary shot at moonface. I wish you ill's ills, a heavy thumb & slow hands and may you strike hard enough to see nothing at all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 3 by CONRAD AIKEN THE HEMP (A VIRGINIA LEGEND) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET BEARING LEAVES AGAIN by DAVID IGNATOW TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED MASTER WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE by BEN JONSON FALLING ASLEEP by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: JANUARY by EDMUND SPENSER SIX O'CLOCK by TRUMBULL STICKNEY CRADLE SONG (TO A TUNE OF BLAKE'S): 2 by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |