The longer thou livest, the more fool thou.

I

Go hide! Go hide! But through the latticework
Of my upraised bone hands
I see athlete and statesman, priest and clerk
Step forth as deodands.


Risking more than they know of life and limb
In playing Peekaboo-
Whose happiest chances couldn-t be called -slim�-
I-ve tagged each: ICU

II

Cry; baby, cry!
You-ve got two reasons why.
The first is being born at all:
The second, my peremptory call.
Cry; baby, cry!

Weep, baby, weep!
No solaces in sleep.
Nightmare will ruin your repose
And daylight resurrect your woes.
Weep, baby, weep!

III

Bah, bah, black sheep, you supply the needs
Plaguing mourners: stylish widows- weeds.
Haute couture for all the fashion shows.
Black is the color of my true love-s clothes.