“I Am in Danger - Sir - ”

Lyrics

"I Am in Danger - Sir - " "Half-cracked" to Higginson, living, afterward famous in garbled versions, your hoard of dazzling scraps a battlefield, now your old snood mothballed at Harvard and you in your variorum monument equivocal to the end - who are you? Gardening the day-lily, wiping the wine-glass stems, your thought pulsed on behind a forehead battered paper-thin, you, woman, masculine in single-mindedness, for whom the word was more than a symptom -- a condition of being. Till the air buzzing with spoiled language sang in your ears of Perjury and in your half-cracked way you chose silence for entertainment, chose to have it out at last on your own premises.