At dawn there was the light voice
of Neil Young I was unacquainted with
it was my first visit to America
I did not ever before consider folk
to be everyday life
To suck the nipples of a black boy
who did not know about Beethoven
but got the best of that night
I excused myself after the third time
but he said you are doing fine
Indeed the innocence was there
as in spirituals, as in the black mammy
that of course beamed at us
but was it so of course
that we so naturally ate at a speakeasy
It was before everything, before fear
before thinking, there had been no
broken marriage, there was just Neil Young
and my disbelief hearing myself called
Mon Chou seriously