It's a cold world, the cliche runs,
the River is cold, these rooms are cold -
My coat is threadbare and the matches are soaked.
It's Day For Night (for day for night for day for night)
-up in the cold world,
I'm low in its apertured hem.
This is every day, then this is every day then.
The River is close,
just beyond the men,
beyond all ten avenues.
These rooms are near the river, they're filled with matches.
I'm High day and night and low:
(and I'm so afraid of my cuffs and)
Lo! What is that on the river?
Matchless barge of Cleopatra's age?
This river runs, rheumy and cold -
I am high, despite my load,
bright in the night light the shape of my coat