my sweet old etcetera

my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent


war could and what
is more did tell you just
what everybody was fighting


for,
my sister


Isabel created hundreds
(and
hundreds)of socks not to
mention fleaproof earwarmers
etcetera wristers etcetera, my
mother hoped that


i would die etcetera
bravely of course my father used
to become hoarse talking about how it was
a privilege and if only he
could meanwhile my


self etcetera lay quietly
in the deep mud et


cetera
(dreaming,
et
cetera, of
Your smile
eyes knees and of your Etcetera)