All Things Must Die

She smiled on me so sweetly,

     And I loved her so completely,

That I couldn’t help but ask her for a kiss;

     And after she consented,

     Sir, I fairly went demented

At the thought of such a stroke of earthly bliss.

     But those happy days are over,

     Like unto the Pigs in Clover,

Or the fascinating game of Tiddle-de-winks;

     And she tells her nearest neighbor

     That to near me is hard labor,

That her husband from caressing daily shrinks.

May 16, ‘91

Pub. in

Camb. Press