He has three singles on the charts and in
Six weeks will be dead,
the Piper Cub that also kills
Big Bopper, Buddy Holly and almost Dion,
Skidding to pieces in an Iowa field.
Easy to imagine premonitions--
That he wakes in night-sweats from dreams of falling--
Harder to say he's seventeen
And buys, with cash, a house in West L.A.,
Where he's sprawled tonight, sculpting in his bedroom
A gift for his new wife, His left hand turns
The knife in circles on his right. Where thumb
And index finger meet, he cuts and squirms,
Replacing blood with ink. Cotton stops the flow.
She'll wake to heart shape,
circling TE AMO.