THE LOT OF LOVE IS FORGIVEN AND TOO IT IS FORGOT
It is not we who shall be two
It is not one who is the woo-ing
of the flock of doves
called the rocket and flowing doll.
It is the right and wender of the full-ness of being
that makes it all the same again.
It will be heard in the markets ruin
the use of flooding chambers good and evil,
for it is wrong to be here then
and we all shall be parted by the right
of all to make it here in the webbing
of the foot and dogging of the rod,
at bottom path’d stone of judding
horror called the real way of tiny lights
and floxxen youth went and weir.
It is not new to sue for brambled pastures
the right for all to make the fastner
orpped and even in the stem of light
that is the wrong and not the right
of all to be here when it is about
time to make it to the re’mber and taint
of love across the somber tonne of want
called the able night of gaunt-made times
of life.
