I Don’t Know

I don’t know glosses or feelings or crosses,
Or miles and miles of reading and reeds and fantastical things,
Or books or clauses or feelings or crosses,
Or mandibles, marks, bugs, or weeds,

Not tweed or bargains or top hats or slogans,
Not guns or steel or blasé Pa Jenkins,
Not his banjo or Soho,
Not rainy Sunday coves

I don’t know the weather,
I don’t know the clothes rows
I don’t know the glosses,
The crosses,
The echoes

Nor know them for fear
Or know them from wants
Or hats or Pa Jenkins
Or laying cross cots

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