poems what they say letters who he is
 


 


PAINT
I could be your pilot fly you gently
I could wash your feet oh so to make me
I could be your fool if you ask me
I would walk your doggy if you let me
Goethe and Goethe and Rimbaud to the maker
You and I for six unto the backbeat
Save a day away before Sunday
I might let you stay with the pygmy