You cannot sleep forever on percale.
More transient even than a fancied kiss
    is the complaisance of the pillowcase.
      Weary though you may be, and strong the pill,
Dark's consolation, like itself, will pale.
You cry, and blow your nose. You sleep, and piss.
    One-two, fuck-you, mad Nature sets the pace
      For us, too frail to help, too tough to kill.