What counts Is Coming Back Down the Stairs

​What counts is coming back down the stairs
(And like, taking off yourself
And it really wasn’t yourself? And finding
Old teachers of yours sitting on the shelf?

(And now it’s like, what the heck,
And you say, “My God, it was all an act,
All of this sensitivity and tact,”
Now everyone on the team has been sacked,

And) well, would you like some blancmange?
If I could go back to school, I would give
Good advice. (I wonder if sea urchins
Feel sorry for themselves and squeak “Forgive

(“Me! I can’t help it if I poke.”
Just how many times can you go any deeper?
I mean, descending a staircase.) My goodness!
There’s the light switch, behind a creeper.

And you too have your honor, the honor
Of a simple man who wants to pray
And pay his car insurance. And blanc-
Mange is sweet, in a milky way.