Addiction to an Old Mattress

No, this is not my life, thank God ... ... worn out like this, and crippled by brain-fag; Obsessed first by one person, and then (Almost at once) most horribly besotted by another; These Februaries, full of draughts and cracks, They belong to the people in the streets, the others Out there – haberdashers, writers of menus. Salt breezes! Bolsters from Istanbul! Barometers, full of contempt, controlling moody isobars. Sumptuous tittle-tattle from a summer crowd That’s fed on lemonades and matinées. And seas That float themselves about from place to place, and then Spend