Noose

Things started fine, but then the water pooled
Around your ankles, and the dogs got loose.
I tried Zen, but it wasn't any use:
The sun was setting, and the earth had cooled.
The physicist admitted he'd been fooled
By bright eyes flashing and a nice caboose.
He said to me, "My neck is in a noose,"
And you implied worlds had to be retooled.

I can't do that. I can't remake the plan,
Which was to terrify the girls and boys
With flat, hard faces and defective noise,
As loud and hard and awful as we can.
Myself, I've been a sad, distracted man,
The sort of host that nobody enjoys.

That Memory

My teens were lean years: barely did a kiss
Come rattling my way, never mind the trade
Of my hands on her — every girl a maid —
And hers on me. I waited for my bliss
Until my twenties: every shocking miss
Was craving my embrace. My heart obeyed
Their summons, and that memory won't fade,
The serpent's murmur turned into a hiss.

Now I am old, and all my hair is white,
The nights are full of unexpected fears,
The warmest days are garlanded with tears,
My body is no woman's fair delight,
My energy will flag as a long night
Persists, and these are once again lean years.