And I took my bandanna again on my stick
And I walked to the grocery and took my pick
[With domesticity for the moment]
And I bought crackers, canned shrimps, corn,
Codfish like flakes of snow at morn,
Buns for breakfast and a fountain-pen
Laid down change and marched out again
And I walked through Hoboken, torn-socked, free,
With my red heart galumphing all agog in front of me!