Should I coolly cascade up the stairs
and meet him.
Should I throw down our faces
and our wits
or should I not.
Should I buy the beer
and frost a heart
as one would a glass.
Should I sift the sawdust
for the diamonds that lay there.
Should my elbow be more
mahogany than bone.
Should she behind the bar
know my eyes and my limit.
Should I pass
to the rest room
flush the handled john
even though it wasn’t used.
Should I eat
with napkin folded in my lap
Should I palm the spoon.
Should I slip the peas into my sleeve.
I am afraid to smile
as I might be a crocodilian thing
and my laugh
a howl at the moon.
Will I shake his hand.
I think that I could not.
How could I be so bronze
when all my blood is hot wax
my ankles so well turned.
How might I enjoin a man
that sings a melody
I once hummed.
How should I tie my shoes
be clean as a new ass.
Oh, should I or
should I not.
How could I meet him
and not
hold her hand to long.
