im chasing u round the attic. u lead me round my attic, over chintzy 50s carpet, circumnavigating staircase well b/c u r scared 4 me—wild ghost chase? but there r many floors & rooms here & our friends r at a party in the next room…
The son-poem continues / by these pastoral lines , / in my ears put / by father , as / words of the mouth of / the poem ‘ s / father , on a short morning / saunter / he set out on alone /
