In the Assarts no. 33

33

I loved you o anne Boleyn
instead of thomas wyatt I
wrote your falling name on my
mistake. You in very small
trunks. You in dark green.
You in tough smooth tops.
Since I went to pieces
alas my american tats were this bad
when I got off with your head
then I was sir thomas wyatt
yes no don't know why
I spent my life in wood.
These hands made the best french boots.
These hands make the best english bats.