The sun is folding, cars stall and rise
beyond the window. The workmen leave
the street to the bums and painters’ wives
pushing their babies home. Those who realize
how fitful and indecent consciousness is
stare solemnly out on the emptying street.
The mourners and soft singers. The liars,
and seekers after ridiculous righteousness. All
my doubles, and friends, whose mistakes cannot
As simple an act
as opening the eyes. Merely
coming into things by degrees.
Because I must walk
through the eye-shaped
shadows cast by these
curved gold leaves thick
atop each constructed
palm tree, past displays
of silk scarves, lit
silhouettes of blue-bottled
perfume — because
I grip, as though for the first
time, a paper bag
of french fries from McDonald's,
and lick, from each fingertip,
i.
In a courtyard, in these stacks of chairs
before the empty stage — near are
we Lord, near and graspable. Lord,
accept these humble offerings:
stacks of biscuits wrapped in cellophane,
stacks of bone in glass: thighbone,
spine. Stacks of white saucers, porcelain
circles into which stacks of lip-worn
After the jostling on canal streets
and the orchids blowing in the window
I work in cut glass and majolica
and hear the plectrum of the angels.
My thoughts keep dwelling on the littoral
where china clocks tick in the cold shells
and the weeds slide in the equinox.
The night is cold for love,
a chamber for the chorus
and the antistrophe of the sealight.
The ants came
to investigate
the dead
bull snake,
nibbled
at the viscera
and hurried off
with full mouths
waving wild
antenae.
Moths alighted,
beetles swarmed,
flies buzzed
in the stomach.
1
Under this Luxemburg of heaven,
upright capstan,
small eagles....
is the port of N. Y.....
gilders, stampers, pen makers, goldbeaters,
Eastern Sea, 100 fathoms,
green sand, pebbles,
broken shells.
Off Suno Saki, 60 fathoms,
gray sand, pebbles,
bubbles rising.
Plasma-bearer
and slow-
motion benthos!
The fishery vessel Ion
drops anchor here
collecting
plankton smears and fauna.
The old man
drew the line
for his son,
the executive:
“I don’ t want you spending money on me!
(not as long as there are fathers)”,
the line ageless
as the independence of time.
Musters tears
and overflows
the inner ear,
yet does not matter.
It can not cure frailty.
The story of how she bowed to her brother.
Who has whom as his.
Did she bow to her brother. When she saw him.
Any long story. Of how she bowed to her brother.
Sometimes not.
She bowed to her brother. Accidentally. When she saw him.
Often as well. As not.
She did not. Bow to her brother. When she. Saw him.
This could happen. Without. Him.
Everybody finds in it a sentence that pleases them.
This is the story included in. How she bowed to her brother.
Could another brother have a grand daughter.
