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.
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