Aus einem zeitgenössischen Gedicht:
Leaving you was a matter of walking away, I thought,
then walking further. His grease, teeth, his wolf breath: I took him in.
What if there was wine? There was wine. What if there was vodka?
It wasn't that much wine. What if he had a gun?
There was no gun. I took him in and trotted back to you, obedient,
holding this sin like a dead bird in my mouth, dropping it at your feet,
this gift. Now make the bitch of me
, my love:
Turn loose my eyes, let my jaw drop. My tongue, a leash on the bad mutt.