Interrogation 4

The days soft from deluge rain
the deluge spent the beautiful day
in the cavern dream
echo of music
I no longer follow

The last cry of an animal the sound
n my ears looking over the bad poetry
such dumb, rough tongue as not fit for metaphor
the exaltation of decay
a day-dream of No

and the outside world
wear cold splendor belongs
to anyone more spot on,
more talented than yourself

Intelligence, such as it is,
self-pitying and grand
 this is o.k.
this is people
grist for the mill.
The insinuation: being.

This mess is dirtying,
but to become more seems half-
a raggy chew
toy with
this navel