We were once engaged once

There’s a strange form of school in which all
Convivial support is credited by the incredulous
Fact of human fallibility, and the direction of such
Is laid upon the fool, who is, at present,
Walking down the street, and thinking he’s in love.

I have had many chances to correct myself, yet
Lately I haven’t wanted to,
For all I think about is you and you

Singing blindly like a saint fallen into the yards
Of some misrepresented fabric, and the sorry few
Caught up in building a house for you.

And I do encompass something to you, I am sure of that.
And fire away nightly
After instances of you and cough you up constantly.

You are one of the lost ones, walking
Down these alien streets.
You are the foreigner that makes

My nostalgia disease, you--
An incredulous figment to me,
Which my present life has conspired to create.

I have other friends than you.
And would you
Say hello to them? The man
I give our bottles to? He knows me so well--

And comments often upon my sorry streaks of embellishment,
And supposedly watches me, through my window
As I watch for you.
And I think he knows me better than you.