#412: Oh, Henry

Oh, Henry Miller! Tell me where you got
your glorious contempt for consequence--
the will to belch and fart at common sense
and dive headlong into a life of Thought.

Such all-encompassing, sweet unconcern
as yours for life and country, health and heart,
such unflagging belief in Truth and Art,
and damn everything else!--these I would learn.

If I had even half the fearless trust
in my peculiar muse, I'd fly to France;
I'd smoke, start drinking barrels of Merlot,
write sonnets just to get down some girl's pants,
and waking in some whorehouse, rise and throw
myself into the Seine in sheer disgust.
_