Cell V

‘a glimpse of stocking’

this side of those,

everything glows —

‘tho I’m not sick yet,

nor even thickset,

shall I quickstep

over holes

or on the poles —

& if your rockets

are bottl’d (O stop it)

‘I suppose,

but what are those’ —

unpaid tickets,

designer lipstick,

& ‘morrows’ pick –Yes,

I’d tip-toe,

if I had those