And
there is no pain in suffering
should you know you can teach in song

And
there is no sin in bluffing
should you know you can right your wong

And there was a gaunt man at the window
his palms were on his knees

And
his eyes were almost tears
his mouth a halibut
his ears were almost gills

And there was a lady on the still
hand on cheek and still
Shining bright
seemed topaz dyed
Couldnt hear her
her eyes were asking for a favour

Whiskey breath is old now
and years are marked by candles blown
but there is still
a girl on the sill
Baffled man has paused till
she speaks

And its clear to both of them from time to time
some heads must meet only under the sky

And sometimes generations masturbate themselves to sleep
and generous time will have huffed and puffed
unlearning its patience

Unlearn yours.

Malbenis.. It's a shame,isn't it?
Seems fine to me.

And
he was a fine man in his youth
Odd faced but solid as rocks
And
all his women were fine
specimens of a
common affliction
often the affliction was him

As he grew older though
the woman on the sill never
changed
Malbenis raved in middle age
and loved the people he scared
A common affliction.

She never looked at him different
he bathed forever
in naked splendour
in the pools of her ample eyes
And she smiled on the sill as he banged doors, kicked cats,
drank spluttered and wandered back exhausted.

It took him eighty yeas to
burn through eighty lifetimes

Morning glory on the sill smiled still the same