Sonnet
The mail has come and gone. There is nothing more to hope for
Tonight. Everything is put off until tomorrow when the postman comes
Again and my wife at my elbow hoping ... You are impertinent
My wife is the most beautiful woman in our city and for that matter
In all the cities of our exile. But I am a man who looks out
The window while my wife's thighs grow cooler and cooler and she turns
Her face to the wall and falls asleep without me. I look across the city.
I want something else. I am a traveler abroad, and I pass
Through cities as a thief who has never heard any song except the
First crow of the cock in a barnyard smelling of delayed spring and
I could stand by the cows and horses and say wont you lie down now
Wont you be seated now that the sun has risen according to the
Prophets and the sacred inscriptions. I could walk unsteadily towards
A new-born lamb and say shepherds are lonely fellows without knowing it.
Tonight. Everything is put off until tomorrow when the postman comes
Again and my wife at my elbow hoping ... You are impertinent
My wife is the most beautiful woman in our city and for that matter
In all the cities of our exile. But I am a man who looks out
The window while my wife's thighs grow cooler and cooler and she turns
Her face to the wall and falls asleep without me. I look across the city.
I want something else. I am a traveler abroad, and I pass
Through cities as a thief who has never heard any song except the
First crow of the cock in a barnyard smelling of delayed spring and
I could stand by the cows and horses and say wont you lie down now
Wont you be seated now that the sun has risen according to the
Prophets and the sacred inscriptions. I could walk unsteadily towards
A new-born lamb and say shepherds are lonely fellows without knowing it.
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