My grief is mine my grief is mine my grief is MINE my grief is MINE my grief is MINE MY grief is MINE MY grief is mine MY grief is mine MY grief IS mine MY GRIEF IS MINE MINE MINE MINE

I am the Fat Man. He is starving for sugar
and opens his artery
and drinks and tastes honey
in his blood,
thank god,
it is so sweet.

Maudlin Madeline lies in the backseat
of an auto. As the auto bowls through
an ace bandage high way Madeline opens
the door. Plains rush by and her head is upside down.
She thinks, I need a haircut. She knows,
I have no money. As maudlin Madeline
lies in the backseat she sticks her out of the door and her hair drags along the road.
When the auto hits a pothole and
her head comes clean off her neck,
we DON'T say, "What a tragedy,"
we do say, "What a fool."
It is stupid, stupid, stupid to
trust the road to behave itself.