Regarding Mr. Scott
Love is lost and left alone,
laughter turns to air or stone.
God becomes what beauty buys
for his ghostly rheumy eyes.
Word is fire, word is wind,
word creates what men rescind.
God becomes a dull surprize
in his ghostly rheumy eyes.
Nerve is lost without regain,
spirit drowns by Hurricane.
God becomes a fear that flies
through his ghostly rheumy eyes.
Word is water, word is smoke;
word creates what men revoke.
God becomes a death that dries
on his ghostly rheumy eyes.
Watch him while he limps alone,
hobbled by hard cobblestone.
Tell me when he falls and dies.
I will close his rheumy eyes.
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