I don’t know this man – never met Ray, yet…
He knows me; I know him
I don’t have a wife – her name is Babette
I want to travel south – no, northbound
I know me… does me know I?
I’m but a plebeian, yet I’m crowned
I ate my last poem a second ago
Yet I hunger for more
And, well, the more you eat, just the more you sow
At night I’m alive; at day I survive
Eons trickle down and down
Strive, dive, don’t contrive, don’t shrive, thrive, jive… jive