by Paul Muldoon
We cluster at one end, one end of Dillon Gym.
"You know what, honey? We call that a Homonym."
We cluster at one end, one end of Dillon Gym.
"If it's fruit you're after, you go out on a limb."
That last time in Princeton, that ornery degree,
those seventeen-year locusts hanging off the tress.
That last time in Princeton, that ornery degree,
his absolute refusal to bend the knee.
His last time Princeton, he wouldn't wear a hood.
Now he's dressed up as some sort of cowboy dude.
His last time Princeton, he wouldn't wear a hood.
"You know what, honey? We call that disquietude.
It's that self-same impulse that has him rearrange
both 'The Times They Are A-Changin'' and 'Things Have Changed'
so that everything seems to fall within his range
as the locusts lock in on grain silo and grange."
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