Cumins is ,for ever ,at comings
And goings,a lover of humanity
Poem maker in the lap of death.
He doubles “e’ as in a “screetch”
But is highly under-capitalized,
Holding secret life in his pants.
He holds a secret of all of them,
Making poems in a death’s trap
Making poetry up like woman.
(On reading a poem Humanity I love You by e.e. cumins)