From the streets of Chicago

Away! For I must thee follow!
‘Tis not through thy companionship
But in thine absence, that I thrive!
Time, O thou prejudiced bird,
Thy decisive fluttering wings and ticks
and bells; albeit music to mankind,
Beg to be silenced, in thy requiem.

I remain but a lazy sod, whining
Whiling away thy willing blessing
With recklessness befitting a fool.
Guide me to thy abyss, thou trickster
For what good is my grief,
In the comfort of a warm brew
And a Wordsworthian soliloquy.

Thou art my haven, O winged beast
Come, embrace me, and with me, waltz;
The dance of eternal youth!

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