In excess, I knew the things of the few;
The wild, invisible, heaving yearning
Of returning to a street-side learning
And being taught by the Wandering Jew.
In exile, I slew demons and semen
Was my weapon. I slept but did not sleep
As I stepped on creeps, vanquishing the cheap,
Forlorn “lovers” I would keep. And three men
Who were not wise kept me well-dressed and fed
As I journeyed from room to room nightly.
I knocked a shoulder and was unsightly
But I survived and chose this road instead.