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.