I Must Go Poem by Peter Black

I must go...
From out this feminine reek,
That drifts from floor boards,
Off the musty ruffled spread;
Beneath the woman is the sheets
And between us two is only a gown,
There is no thing beneath
Bellow or up.
My friend,
The moon is burning down
Like an old iridescent bulb,
Grey and cobwebbed
In the dark corner of a hallway:
Shedding down a dim, dim glow...
On her shoulders and breast—
'My friend, let us not be so...slow.'

Down stairs there is much drinking.
The bed is ruffled—
She is dressing quickly:
Yes, yes I must go.

'Friend. Companion. Let us go
To the safe seclusion of an old pub-bar.'