Ur

Contained by myself Drawing the wages of the bombed out present day Away from his story, now my story but Finding no plastic to pay for Plathist words To say What? He can look at me here now A shell of a father's folly soon spent Gone by are his probably more than a million days, my maybe ten thousand Reading daily local evenings untreasured sent went. Driving far away on the forward roll that's keeping me For the count of the return from the battles' exchange Him leaving here, me coming here Wandering kine all cross without dinar fortunes miss to christen this range. Brown floured sand in my ears The prize in a fight with words undeciphered yet He spoke this way, I utterly mumble "Ur" so unschooled Meandering donkeys forefeet cord-tied won't forfeit the Bedouin bet.