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it doesn’t turn black from pink and you won’t be able to rest your eye while you think. You won’t think. The silence won’t be soothing as velvet to let you concentrate when the radio peters out. It won’t give you a float. And nothing like fresh cold water. It ain’t like going to sleep…

“What obsessed Hieronymus Bosch was not simply sadism but interpenetration and particularly cutting,” chittered the ferret as she sipped her espresso and picked at a napoleon

I The noon dazes us, a brilliant back-beater. II Like hands slapping the water, ducks settle. III Shakedown time: fall trees fork over to the winds. IV Cornfields craze the wild crows, raucous on the fence. V This, this, this: like a stick against fence pickets.

Untimely alone. Where are the clothes I wore? The South Wellfleet Inn comes shuffling down Is this the door I came in before? Sweet Christ, Edwin you’re dressed already in your union blue. I’m in here with these industrial screws down the woodland steps a woman’s torso naked and bruised. There is not a chair…

I ought to have a good opinion of myself but from my unlucky education I cannot get rid of a mean timidity as to my own worth. I was very genteelly lodged. And then the century garbage: full of prying, deceitful, hateful people named geikie, bailie, ritchie or some other name It ends in -ie…

The blue breeze spins In near-still swirls Away from land. A gull lifts off The dull brown pier, Then works its wings And scales itself In sidelong glide Downwind, down wind Alone, black-tipped Wings its way up Through a soft scale Like a mild dream Balanced on sleep. Then, blood-beak poised On molecules Of sea…

The Great Dance,            the Yu step “performed the Great Bear”                              or did      those stars, into the midst of us,                  feeling us out to know the power. Exousia. Feeling the ground out step by step      to know what sort of earth our senses made us                        (casting…