Wikipedia Poem, No. 938
after Kenneth Koch
to die.
what has me—anything
you gave some fifties clothing or my
head—great
troops
to
have
you—i could play
against blackholes like picasso—i
would
play again
like some converse days
fell through
and
become?
you look the
karen horney
kind
all—other something screaming sobbing you gave me
any possibility
no one covered
epochs—
gold of my
best thing you—i would solve
a paste or my leave
hay feelings
two years at whatever wanted life—my
fantastic advancing—
i recovered with light
with
light!
comedy!
tragedy! tragedy! tragedy! tragedy!
tragedy! tragedy! tragedy!