To smash the guts.
4.The Difference Between Us Is Only This
The only difference between us is this:When you see a piece of breadHungry mouths open before your eyesWhile I in the prison of hunger Try to find purity in my stomach Thinking of a glass of wine. You see before your eyesForever the day of your death:And I stand, according to my tradition,Still, on a brick,Against my tradition.
5.Agonies Can Fit Perfectly
Agonies can fit perfectlyEven in fourteen linesLike a civil sonnet.Poets are politeIn the murderously rushing chaosOf language.Only a rare one of themGets mashed so much as to be commemoratedAs, Vallejo, you.
6.We Missed Each Other In 1957
We missed each other in 1957I had only two shirsts. Every nightI had to wash one of them. Monsoon made a worse mess.In the morning I’d go to the Ruia CollegeWith a damp shirt on an empty stomach. And there wereSo many girls bursting with youth, but I had only Twelve
in my pocket for a day’s expenses.And even in broad daylight I was a poet doing night-shiftsI smoked a joint and went to the university to look for
they didn’t have it.It was necessary for me to pass my exams that year.I had to learn my notes by rote.