Poetry

  • In the Endless

    After Verlaine In the endless anxieties of the plain the uncertain snow shines as sand. Of copper is the sky, without one light. One would believe any moon, seen living and dying. As some storm clouds hover infirm and grey, the oaks of close-lying forests are among the vapours. Of copper is the sky, without…

  • Monday, Monday

    In the country perhaps some rooster or another crows on Monday morning (the 15th? the 22nd?) This particular sound reminds me that I haven’t changed my pants since Monday Between the rising and the setting of the sun I’ve forgotten my old friends. translated by George Kimball

  • Anthropitis

    This dread disease was first recorded by An ancient commentator, who described The symptoms well but possibly relied Too much on hearsay. Be that as it may, It starts with fever followed by a chill, Then six full days of agony near death, Rapidity of pulse, shortness of breath, And diarrhea, though they have a…

  • Going to Chicago

    for John Sinclair Leaving First On my way,                        ”Ave Atque Valium”                                                                        20 mgs.                                    & coffee                  Thanks to the Air Hostess            dark eyes     dark hair                                    red lips                  …

  • Sand

    Night flashed instantly about the house, loudly roared and the sea was unheard. Lying beside me you slept through it your body thin as fusewire. Lying awake on one elbow I saw the beach fused in static and the sea was unheard while a body of air was shot through with light. Morning saw the…

  • Stage Directions

    The wind is west, the season, fall, The time is now but also then, And some men wait while other men Watch fiercely westward, watching all And seeing nothing, nothing but The things of which they have been told. The sun is weak, the wind is cold, And something – they do not know what…

  • The Cave or The Mine

    Everywhere you walk someone else is walking beneath you, in a cave or a mine. You’re sure of it. No matter where you are you can drop to your knees and hear the damp invitations, the buzzing of a hollow, silent place. You’d rather think of it as a mine. Men go down in mines,…