A Poem on the Underground Wall - Live at Lincoln Center, New York City, NY - January 1967

The last train is nearly due
 The Underground is closing soon
 And in the dark, deserted station
 Restless in anticipation
 A man waits in the shadows
 His restless eyes leap and scratch
 At all that they can touch or catch
 Hidden deep within his pocket
 Safe within his silent socket
 He holds a coloured crayon
 Now, from the tunnel's stony womb
 The carriage rides to meet the groom
 And opens wide in welcome doors
 But he hesitates, then withdraws
 Deeper in the shadows
 And the train is gone suddenly
 On wheels clicking silently
 Like a gently tapping litany
 And he holds his crayon rosary
 Tighter in his hand
 Now, from his pocket quickly flashes
 The crayon on the wall he slashes
 Deep upon the advertising
 A single-worded poem comprised of
 Four letters
 And his heart is laughin', screamin', poundin'
 The poem across the tracks reboundin'
 Shadowed by the exit light
 His legs take their ascending flight
 To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night