Jockey Full of Bourbon

Although through my bewildered way

Of crying off this unshaped evil,

Death to the magical when all is done,

Age come to you--- you're bright and useless,

Soon to my care, my love,

But soon to die

In time, like all, through my unreason

In a gay moment's falsity---

There is no need of hope for hope,

You will bring the place to me

When all is well,

Noble among a crowd of lights.

Then shall your senses, out of joy,

Tingle in mine;

You are the perverse to lie across,

Out of the heart for me,

Sick, pale, and plain,

So that the process calls for laughs,

The silly binding

Snapped in a rain of pieces falling

One head and running foot,

For, if I could, I'd fly away,

For, if I could, I'd fly away

Before the last light is blown

Into the void again of this bewilderment and that insanity.