Andromeda: I know that you have seen
The paltriness and ugliness of life:
The stains upon the best things you would have,
The slash marks from each pin or nail or knife

You hold him in the night amid the stink
That means what you experience is real;
There’s grease and dirt and waste around the edge
Of grisly stories painted too ideal

Andromeda – there is a sort of truth
That’s seen in writings on a bathroom wall:
Linoleum and cleansers cannot hide
The long disfigurement that mars the stall

So why is it we crave what can’t be sated?
Must foul be natural
And good

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