said that having a cold was needing to cry
everybody needs to cry
to exhale a grief violently, spasmodically
everybody needs to sneeze
membranes weeping, tear ducts in anguish
everybody needs to
blow the nose and begin again,
"ahh-choo! I need to — ahh-choo!
call the — ahh-choo! I'll feel better
with some — ahh-choo! ahh-choo!"
explosive grief wracks the town
kleenex sales have boomed
pharmacists can't stock enough Dristan
only the pharmacists are happy, saying,
"people can't seem to shake their —
ahh-choo! — this winter
we're cleaning up
as long as people go on
expressing their grief
loudly, vehemently
as long as their heads continue to split
and their fevers to rise
as long as they shake with chill
as long as they turn to us
we will supply them —
ahh-choo — with comfort
take two of these
and go to bed with your grief
it's so comforting
to lie there in the bosom
of your desire
which is sound asleep."
I have no tears for you, lovers,
only my eyes cry out.
I have no wish to give,
I'm shaken to the root.
I have no need to weep,
some sympathy but no pain
and nothing left for him who keeps
his heart to give again.
I've got a sorrow for no one
and tears for something else
and a mind and a heart that are finished
thinking of what it is
those rule who can give and get,
