Two New Poems

January, 1968

Dropping outGoodbye, fame--somebody else can have my niche.I won't be seen in a limousine;I'd rather sleep in a ditch.I'd get rid of my stupid prideand all my dreary fears.I'd talk to the weeds, sleep on my side,wake up with the ants and the dragonflies,dance the way the gypsies dance,anonymous and shed of lies.Let somebody else make the grab for power--a long way off from where I am--scrabble with fingernails up the tower.I'm happy to make my bunk right here,one arm around a mangy dog;in the fr...