1 You there, impotent, loose in the knees,
Open your scarf’d chops till I blow grit within you,
Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets,
I am not to be denied…
Mine is no callous shell,
I have instant conductors all over me
[repeat 1]
2 I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers,
…and that’s about as much as I can stand.