A guardian and gate
with thorns close-grown—
at every stage a great

barrier. Alone
in the dark with a bear.
If lies are sown

we don't expect a pear
tree. Can a weed
carry you up the stair-

case? A straw reed
may see you through the strait,
but where's the need?

When we were fish the bait
was what we ate!

I know his goat-like gait
and breath, his groan
and rasp. How he can grate

and ask for a loan!
His sidelong glance is bare
as his unsewn

rags and quick as a pair
of dice. Well, we'd
be chalked and cued—he'd stare

like he could read
my mind. My aim was straight
until he kneed

me! Damn that reprobate!
I scratched the eight.