Mothers
FAT CHANCE
More slowly
Come here please
Can he see
The two eyes
Doing our best to sing

You must keep quiet
The hands are the organs of feeling

One hundred gold
Night-dresses
Flayed open
When I close you open

How many fingers
Must you put in my mouth
To muffle my apology

With our mouths open
Everybody laughed
Fat chance and mouth
Under the mouth
Ask him how many
Fingers he has