"Why Do I"--Aye Aye Aiie--

​“Why do I”—aye aye aiie--
These claws--
The rain does not expect the brain
To patter—therefore it does not deign
To spatter on the ruin.

The life of rain—of
You no you--
Are we? We know?
A knife, a thus
A drawer shut--

The comet never moved, but space
It shuddered, shook its cosmic lace--
Because it doesn’t know—its snow--
An icy, gaseous, sweet
Mystique
Sweet madness dancing on the sand--

The comet lozenge on the sea
Glows its softness, renders me--
I act—rise--
Key oh key--