The Merry Fool

  Such a merry fool am I
  Caked full, hard mud
  rests on cheeks as dried riverbeds of joy. 
  No poem so sweet, so melancholic
  have I laid ear upon to move me
  To change the color of my rosy complement.
  No wet piece of verse have I, nor line, nor song
  to bring tear to eyes so dry.
  Nor any shall 'scape the
  bottle of my soul.
  A prison to such feelings as would
  move me to weep!
  Let them be chained, all!
  Only Light shall emanate
  from my sad, silly grin
  Giggles and kisses be the parceled poison
  of my sad, silly heart.
  A gift to thee,
  wrapped in lavendered velvet,
  scabs and maggot-ea'in lace.

  And you shall ne're know of me
  Ne're to feel the wind that moves me.
  None shall see me fall.

  Such a merry fool am I.