Monody

Mother mine, I have washed down

The turtles, your precious stones,

Smoked, touched dirt, painted Toby brown.

I have ignored the door and answered no phones.

I have had a filthy mind, destroyed my trains,

Seized Howard.  I threw wet paper from the window,

Ruined your bedspread with stains

From Howard.  I opened your letters and know

Everything. I did not eat.

I have burned my hand, burned Toby, told lies, have stolen

Something from your desk, lost your keys,

And danced in the piano.  Ah, I made my eye swollen.

Mother, I heaved up on the glasses, ran

In the Green Room, scuffed the floor.

I ran frankfurters through the fan.

Oh, haven’t I gone and spit, waged war?

               -- published in The New Yorker, November 27, 1965