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 Now is Monday morning so, that s a garbage truck I hear,
not bells
And we are back where we started from, Lee, you
& me, alive & well!
L.G.T.T.H.
Queen Victoria dove headfirst into the swimming pool, which was filled
with blue milk.
I used to be baboons, but now I am person.
I used to be secretary to an eminent brain surgeon, but now I am quite
ordinary. Oops! I ve spilled the beans!
I wish mountains could be more appealing to the eye.
I wash sometimes. Meanwhile
Two-ton Tony Galento began to rub beef gravy over his entire body.
I wish you were more here.
I used to be Millicent, but now I am Franny.
I used to be a bowl of black China tea, but now I am walking back
to the green fields of the People s Republic.
Herman Melville is elbowing his way through the stringbeans toward us.
Oscar Levant handed the blue pill to Oscar Wilde during the fish course.
Then he slapped him.
I used to be blue, but now I am pretty. I wish broken bad person.
I wish not to see you tonight.
I wish to exchange this chemistry set for a goldfish please.
I used to be a little fairy, but now I am President of The United States.
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Peking
These are the very rich garments of the poor
Tousling gradations of rainbow, song & soothing tricks
With a crooked margin there & there is here: we
Are the waiting fragments of his sky, bouncing
a red rubber ball in the veins.
Do you have a will? And one existing so forgets all
Desuetude desultory having to move again, take power from snow,
Evening out not more mild than beastly kind, into a symbol.
I hate that. I think the couple to be smiles over glasses, and
Questions not to find you, the which they have. O Marriage
Talking as you is like talking for a computer, needing to be
Abacus, adding machine, me. Up from the cave s belly, down
from the airy populace
That lace my soul, a few tears from the last the sole surviving
Texas Ranger,
Freed, freely merge with your air, dance. Blue are its snowflakes
Besprinkled blue lights on his eyes, & flakes. For her
I d gladly let the snake wait under my back, and think, to walk,
And pass our long love s day. Landscape rushing away.
From A List of the Delusions of the Insane,
What They Are Afraid Of
That they are starving.
That their blood has turned to water.
That they give off a bad smell.
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Being poor.
That they are in hell.
That they are the tools of another power.
That they have stolen something.
That they have committed an unpardonable sin.
Being unfit to live.
That evil chemicals have entered the air.
Being ill with a mysterious disease.
That they will not recover.
That their children are burning.
Chicago English Afternoon
He never listened while friends talked
Less original than penetrating, very often
Illuminating He worked steadily to the even
Current of sound sunlit oblongs bramble transfer
White South nothing is gained by assurance as
To what is insecure beer in bed, & an unused point
Beside me on the bench time of, major energy product
Over Bellevue Road that silence said
To mean an angel is passing overhead my baby
Throws my shoes out the door & one cannot go back
Except in time  Yes, but he is exultant; the ice
Meant something else to him highly reduced
For the sake of maintaining scale Goodbye To All That
 I have only one work, & I hardly know what it is.
It was silence that stopped him working, silence in which
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 he might look up
& see terror waiting in their eyes for his attention.
 Ladies & Gentlemen, you will depart the aircraft
At the Terminal Area to your Right. Thank you for flying United.
Sister Moon
Where do the words come from? (come in?)
Where did that silt? How much lives?
A rock is next to the bee.
The window is never totally thought through.
So
 Silver is used to stand for something nothing
really ever quite is. Let it stand against.
Or in other words what next?
There s time enough
A lot of unalloyed nouns. for a list to occur
between the lines.
Weather, as all strata in a possible day.
Sleet against window glass. A cigarette starts sounding.
You can see how  a depth makes  west and  south agree.
A philosophy:  I guess yes.
milks & honeys, stuns, salutes, flashes . . .
now & again,  a glimpse
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An Orange Clock
Sash the faces of lust
Beast. And get your salutation
An Electric Train wreck in the eye
Everything good is from the Indian. A curtain.
The word reminds me of Abydos and spinach.
I am not a pygmy soothed
By light that breathes like a hand
Sober dog, O expert caresses
In the twisted chamber, for you the silent men, &
Flowers, so as to weave the inhabitants
This small immobile yellow coat persona:
And you must receive songs in its name, O
Library of rapid boons
Irrespective of merit. & now I do not know his name.
Sash the faces of lush
Beast. & Get Your Salutation.
Easter Monday
 Antlers have grown out the top of my shaggy head.
 And his conclusions to be unaccompanied by any opinions. . . . 
 You can t have two insides having an affair.
 Why not then spiritualize one s midday food with a little liquor?
 The question seems prosecutorial.  The house is lost
In the room.  Loyalty is hard to explain.
 Hard fight gets no reward.  A woman has a spirit of her own.
 A man s spirit is built upon experience & rage.  Max Jacob.
In the air, in the house, in the night, bear with me
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 I always chat to the golden partner.
 I m working out the structures of men that don t exist yet.
 A gladness as remote from ecstasy as it is from fear.
 To go on telling the story.
 Give not that which is holy to dog.
So Going Around Cities
to Doug & Jan Oliver
 I order you to operate. I was not made to suffer.
Probing for old wills, and friendships, for to free [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]