old friend, I rarely see

i've been out in the backwoods! kneading the

last little drops of self-pity!

i've been kneeling in the backwoods! needling out

the last rites and waiting for something to change me

i've been weeping in the backwoods and on the outskirts

i've been feeding

greeting in brixton, o happy face

and resolute middle-class smiles all round

my lips bore the kids you've been looking

after

but now, i'll take them back, i'll break them in and give

them suits, send them off to bring home bread and bacon

and other sandwiches.

you spoiled little kids!

old friend, i rarely see you, because my eyes don't work

though i know youre standing there