Wish I Could Sink.

Aches and complaints,

you name ’em, I’ve gotten ’em,

Presently even singing

sharpens my pain.

Wish I could sink,

like a sub, to the bottom,

And send out signals

never again.

My friend poured me drinks,

though I kept refusing;

He kept repeating,

“This once shall pass.”

He hooked me up

with one of his floozies —

“She’ll help thee, just like

the booze in thy glass.”

But neither helped me

feel any less rotten,

It made my head hurt,

she made but scenes.

Wish I could sink,

like a sub, to the bottom,

And disappear

from all radar screens...

1965.