With Melted Opals For My Milk, Pearl-leaf

Each Body Has Its Art.

We Real Cool. We Left School. We Lurk Late. We Strike Straight. We Sing Sin. We Thin Gin. We Jazz June. We Die Soon.

Life Must Be Aromatic. There Must Be Scent, Somehow There Must Be Some.

Already I Am No Longer Looked At With Lechery Or Love.

People Like Definite Decisions, / Tidy Answers, All The Little Ravelings / Snipped Off, The Lint Removed, They / Hop Happily Among Their Roughs / Calling What They Can't Clutch Insanity / Or Saintliness.