名人诗歌|Invocation, and a Sort of Lullaby

Invocation, and a Sort of Lullaby

Jonathan Weinert

~

Bills unpaid^{1, and half the rent, the baby}

Pleistocene with borrowed heat,

I sing. No one coaxes^{2（哄骗）}

or demurs（异议，反对）. Empty fail the savage^{3 pines,}

their stock of seed already spent.

Three finches（雀类） huddle^{4 in the planter.}

~

Go to sleep, my little dinosaur,

with no accounts or credits. Sleep,

while sleep alone is due. Soon

a frozen blanket will be pulled,

and all the local rodents^{5 will descend6 ||}

a fall election, and the virgin^{7 birth}

again. My little five|eighths Jew,

such doings mean as much to you

as Keno to a coelacanth. Sleep.

If I could strip my postures^{8 bare,}

or stripe my knees to charm

obsequious（谄媚的） poetry, I'd sing

a wiser, more distinguished^{9 song.}

My little mastodon, stay warm.

The agencies are everywhere, and cannot care.