When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought

This is the end of the dream, now I’ll wake up.

That was more years ago

than I care to reckon, and my friend is not

dying but adhering to an élite group

in California O.

Why did I never wake, when covered with blood

I saw my fearful friend, his nerves are bad

with the large strain of moving,

I see his motions, stretcht on his own rack,

our book is coming out in paperback,

Henry has not ceased loving

but wishes all that blood would flow away

leaving his friend crisp, ready for all

in the new world O.

I see him brace, and on that note I pray

the blood recede like an old folderol

and he spring up & go.