At the shrink’s office,
there we discussed freedom, pictures
hanging in wooden frames, golden lines
to which the glass connected.
In the pictures were very psychological things.
His thick chair, rich, old and quirky,
the shrink is losing his hair, the hairline is receding.
Every morning God touches him
and makes him well-dressed.
He appears before me dignified,
except for the wild tie.
The shrink’s office,
we were discussing free people
all through the long winter nights,
and during the freezing rain and snow.
So much I went there it hurt,
every evening I spent alone wishing
for more, God alone touches him
and he appears well-dressed, something
I don’t have anything to do with.
-- Robert Wooten