BachelorAfter the moon waned, after it had shone,I found a way to live alone.Grumpy HusbandI am a man who has seen the years go by.I took and take it out on everyone I see.My wife alone has been good to me.She—of all these—was first to die.DullardNo comet ever complainedin Earth’s atmosphere.But I, a man,have burnt out here.AlcoholicNo fish has faultbut I, fish-eater, die of the malt.GossipI sought out glamor, the next minute, talk.What happened to me, what made me balk?SaintA saint who thought he had a swelled head,who was through sinuous imagery misledto think it common sense—died, with a wince.But especially the idea of Sainthe thought was quaintwhich, in this author’s mind,would grant his being pined.


                                                        ~ David Francis


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