You will never catch me/ I know in which corridors you'll be, & where to step/ to avoid thee/ I have taken on so many/ ugly vices/ To forget our livid lousy terror crisis/ Keep your eyes tamed, trained, well away/ kept in shade./ I know I- don't want to be there on the day- You meet your glory./ I am always ashamed./ Always ashamed./ Walking away. Don't try- Don't fucking try to call my name/ in this public place/
You come round- sadly social/ You've arranged to be / any place I might be/ And I watch you, sickly fascinating/ I only wanted/ to step out/ away from this rigid place/ I've been/ years steeped in/ only wanted - to forget the gaps in my opening growth/ Forget them & go back to/ That Pure State./ Where nothing really mattered/ Either Way.
(Angie asked me to write this poem out for her in a letter. And since she gave me her cold... I ought to share something too.)