O I today Sad as Chu Yuan Stumbled to the store In broiling Florida October Morning heat cursing For my wine, sweating Like rain, & came to my chair Weak & trembling Wondering if I'm crazy at last - O Chu Yuan! No! No suicide! Wine please wine! What shall we all do All knowing we're dying Without wine to guide us To winking at death & life too -- My heart belongs To Chinese poets & their scrolls We cant just die --Men need wine & poetry at least O Mao, poet Mao, Not Boss Mao, Here in America Wine is laughed at & poetry a joke --Death's a grim reminder to everybody already dead crashing in cars all around here- Here men & women dryly scowl At poets' sad attempts To make our lot Lesser- I, a poet, suffer Even for bugs I find upsidedown Dying in the grass- So I drink wine Alone- I shudder to think How dead The astronauts Are Going to a dead Moon Of no wine All our best men Are laughed at In this nightmare land But the newspapers preen In virtue-Throughout The world the left & right, The east & west, are both vicious- The happy old winebibber is gone- I want him to reappear- For Modern China preens In virtue too For no better reason Than America- Nobody has respect for the cat Asleep, and I am hopelessly Inadequate in this poem -Nobody has respect for the self centered irresponsible wine invalid -Everybody wants to be strapped in a hopeless space suit where they cant move -I urge you, China, go back to Li Po & Tao Yuan Ming What am I talking about? I don't know, I'm sick today- I didn't sleep all night, Walked stumbling in the field To get wine, now I'm drinking it, I feel better and worse- I have something to say to Mao & the poets of China that wont come out- It's all about how America Ignored poetry & wine, & so does China, & I'm a fool without a river & a boat & a flower suit- without a wineshop at dawn -Without self respect- - -Without the truth- but I'm a better man than all of you- that's what I wanted to say
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