'Why keep a cow when I can buy,'
Said he, 'the milk I need,'
I wanted to spit in his eye
Of selfishness and greed;
But did not, for the reason he
Was stronger than I be.

I told him: ''Tis our human fate,
For better or for worse,
That man and maid should love and mate,
And little children nurse.
Of course, if you are less than man
You can't do what we can.

'So many loving maids would wed,
And wondrous mothers be.'
'I'll buy the love I want,' he said,
'No squally brats for me.'
. . . I hope the devil stoketh well
For him a special hell.

how hard my loyal sentinel has been working
to shield that tender place

the Heart who palpitates
so . . . so . . . so . . . so

stuttering agitated scarred
by the slightest signs
of betrayal

the needle enters Pericardium 8 on my left palm

the earth of knowing disappears
explodes in a rush of pain and tears

she keeps me company while I weep
I’m sorry to cause you pain, she says

she would have removed that needle
had I found it intolerable
but I ask for the second needle
in my right palm

these weapons of liberation
shock the palace guard
with a relief from duty

now I can be exhausted
enter a sleep of countless lifetimes
pinned down at the palms