the whole thing is over,
bastards, I've been
banging the walls for 3 days and 4 nights.
chained in the corner of the room
in my own
hardened jism.
I can't get out to pay the rent
or buy a paper.
somebody drunk upstairs
has been playing the
piano for hours --
all the songs I hate,
and the phone rings again,
and I wonder what the people are doing in
China in East
St. Louis.
then I don't wonder
don't care.

think...