If I were blind, my spirit still would see
Thy being break my midnight with its glow ...
If I were lying dead I still would know
A warm difference didst thou pause by me,
So strong the glorious vital heat of thee!
Caloric Kid! you melt the winter's snow ...
I would sit up and want to be your Beau
Even if drunk, O Incandescent She!

My Eighteenth Wife dropped hairpins by the score,
Pitter-patter, everywhere she ambled,
Jingle-jangle, everywhere she rambled,
Sidewalk, table, hammock, chair and floor ...
I drove a dozen in her head in play
One time ... She took it serious ... Welladay!