I could steal the michelangelos, anything I can count,
places where you read in the morning, little notes you put on shopping lists,
I could steal your after breakfast newspaper, and touch it up, just a little,
put it between my leonardos, hang it off my dante
and whisper it through your open morning mouth
free impression in the impression room, they don't know who's invited
free franklins in the printing room, he's too busy, no one will notice
I could steal my little ezra, my cuddly eliot, somebody's keepsake poem,
I could talk about the children
and I am the child, I do go forth, I am walking between the rooms,
coming and going, loud belching of michelangelo

shan't and won't, can't and don't
all after the aspiration
heaved up the heaven's slumber and left
there was money downtown in god's dirty socks
and giving to the poor
and all these things that so much matter