She tells me she disapproves of the term
But she suggests no alternative
And I excessively attentive to a single topos
Plagued no doubt by justly outmoded attitudes try

Or perhaps the thought of enjoying sharing pleasure
A little too much too self-servingly much and loud distracts
And how she is mysterious and intriguing
And I blunt and obvious and much too much

A thought not of a body part
Nor even of an action
But of a form of pleasure
Hymn of praise obvious and outmoded

And I am ashamed of myself
I too disapprove of this bluntness this repellence
That I never wanted or created
Ashamed of my failure to uncreate myself

And too much expression of my own blunt loud personality
But she disapproving not ungenerous
But ready with objections
For my own obvious attentions

As predictable as the tide
Inconsistent as the ocean
Repellent but gregarious
Blunt but sometimes subtle

In all innocence I try
But innocence wears poorly on the old and outmoded
And a word comes quickly
To pierce a distracted understanding blunt and loud

A word from a certain or indeterminate or mistaken source
That aims to puncture distraction
To slice open the truth
To mortify certain attitudes old and outmoded

Justly outmoded attentions
Steeped in attitudes justly superceded
About a man’s body or a woman’s
Not forceful but a bit much and blunt

My own attentions outmoded and conventional
The obvious joke the blunt assessment
The personality repellent and blunt and easily hurt
The single-minded excesses tipping into topical sadness

I take pride excessive and deadly
In the old sad hymn of praise
Which I neither uncreated nor created
The personality and the attention and I try

Nobody loves sadness in old age
The reaping that follows the sowing
The white and bristly beard
Old attitudes of blunt old days and dead

And nobody wants that oft-told tale
Not even I of brooding on coldness
When I am cold though outwardly loud
Site of recurrent death and unfeeling feelings

Cold dry salty and bitter
Importer of the cold north
Injector of substantial cold and dry
Who wields the rotating death taper

Who dons the truth-enforcing mask
The jolly joker
The mock enlivening piercing turning taper
That lights with cold light and dead

Perhaps you thought the dead do not move
Perhaps you thought the dead harbor no thoughts
Perhaps you thought the dead suffered no cravings
Perhaps you thought old dead attitudes simply disappear

Or that the dead know not where they are
For while it is true
That the sucking vortex is disorienting
Yet that space that crushes space asserts itself

And she lively ready with a word
A quick and sharp assessment
One of us is short on understanding
A little distracted too much by thought of pleasure

Pierced unexpectedly into sadness
Distracted by old attitudes
A single topos a blunt personality
Repellent and easily brought to death

She puts me down
I can’t complain
When I outmodedly self-servingly try
And she puts me down

Ah well away
I try too much to share
And how much is too much
To an understanding a little short and self-serving

Always considering myself first
Always the self-serving assessment
Always overeager and seeking not paying attention
Always already dead

A little short of sight
A little hard of hearing
A little self-serving of unearned complaint
A little obvious of joke

I
I am the one at fault
When blunt and repellent I bruit
A sadness a single topos and dead again

I was sick and loud
Blunt and repellent in my joke of death
I yearned for death
In all innocence I tried

I had vertigo and vomited for hours
Hear me youth of your life to come
Hear my blunt prophecy and sad
The old outmoded hymn of praise

I love little Pussy her coat is so warm
And if I don’t hurt her she’ll do me no harm
I’ll not pull her tail nor drive her away
But Pussy and I very gently will play