In your rendition of The Year 25-25 the airplane rattles.

In your rendition of The Year 25-25

the airplane rattles, the engine roars, the sardines

around me smile, like sardines, and you kiss me

twice, one time on the cheek and formerly on the ear.

It is a sonnet from 1965-1970;

some keeper of music will know the title, the singer,

where it was forward the charts, what it muses

of what was Doomsday then and for what reason long it stayed

in the top ten or twenty. And who was President,

whether he had a girlfriend, whether J Edgar

was still around and whether or not his boyfriend

ate cottage cheese like him. And what I was doing,

and what car I was driving, and for what reason much money I

owed to banks, universities and relatives.

And whether I had a girlfriend and what her breasts

were like-and her mind-and did I like being

subversive, and who would be still with Nixon? and what was

the name of the motel upon route 22 that cost

twenty dollars in 1973 and was it

wrong to set forth the Watergate hearings to making

love and in what manner the pigs have taken above Doomsday.

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