If I had a dollar
for every worn collar
My name would be rich
whichever one I'd pick
Now I have just one
won in a dog-fight
flecked with rust in blood
crusted and well-run
Pluck the eyelets all
thread the needle through
rue every prickle, and
let the pinpricks call
Back to end of class
polishing your brass
ready to pull it on
Come on, world, come on
Would you be so proud
Loud, and speak for me
I am you but unfree
Cloud muddin' your dream
It is after time and
time is not our own
Grown but not better
Letters all unlearned
I ponder why, when
you thought of me
Did you wonder then
if you'd become me
