Dream Song 49: Blind

Old Pussy-cat if he won't eat, he don't feel good into his tum', old Pussy-cat. He wants to have eaten. Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can't. A dizzy swims of where is Henry at; . . . somewhere streng verboten. How come he sleeps & sleeps and sleeps, waking like death: locate the restorations of which we hear as of profound sleep. From daylight he got maintrackt, from friends' breath, wishes, his hopings. Dreams make crawl with fear Henry but not get up. The course his mind his body steer, poor Pussy-cat, in weakness & disorder, will see him down whiskers & tail. 'Wastethrift': Oh one of cunning wives know that he hoardy-squander, where is nor downtown neither suburba. Braille.