DADDY IS COLD

Peaks Island, Maine

DADDY IS COLD

DADDY IS COLD-COME WARM HIM UP.

Nothing I do, nothing I feel,

feels like it did with you.
Who would dare suppose such a thing?

The twitching id of perpetual need,

a litany of denials—

life itself, a fragile compassion.

DADDY IS COLD-COME WARM HIM UP.

Nothing I do, nothing I feel,

feels like it did with you.
Who would dare suppose such a thing?

The twitching id, hungry, restless,

denying itself, devouring itself.
Nothing I do, nothing I feel,

feels like it did with you.


A litany of denials—

a shivering need—

life itself, an unanswered call.
A litany of denials.

Who would dare suppose such a thing?

Life itself—

DADDY IS COLD-COME WARM HIM UP.

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