You could have it easy,
yet you proceed with caution,
looking for love in wrong places,
trying to keep it together
from this canyon of distance,
orphans off-stage with
pulchritude on parade.
A plight of inquisitive curiosity
on the edge of desperation:
Are you? Have you? What now?
You’ll not find any trust here
but still you bravely call him dear
and carry forth the sad charade.
Pageant of Pulchritude [Galveston, Texas, 1928]