And suck of the grey seaTo the left, and the waveUnfists against the dunBarb-wired headland ofThe Deer Island prisonWith its trim piggeries,Hen huts and cattle greenTo the right, and March iceGlazes the rock pools yet,Snuff-colored sand cliffs riseOver a great stone spitBared by each falling tide,And you, across those whiteStones, strode out in you deadBlack…
Doing nothing. July’s juice rounds their nubs.This park is fleshed with idiot petals.White catalpa flowers tower, topple,Cast a round white shadow in their dying.A pigeon rudders down. It’s fantail’s whiteVocation enough: opening, shuttingWhite petals, white fantails, ten white fingers.Enough for fingernails to make half-moonsRedden in white palms no labor reddens.White bruises toward color, else collapses.Berries…
Upholstered in red velvet, under the eyeOf uncaged tigers and a tropical moon,Set in intricate wilderness of greenHeart-shaped leaves, like catalpa leaves, and lilliesOf monstrous size, like no well-bred liliesIt seems teh consistent critics wanted youTo choose between your world of jungle greenAnd the fashionable monde of the red couchWith its prim bric-à-brac, without a…
This antique museum-cased ladyLies, companioned by the gimcrackRelics of a mouse and a shrewThat battened for a day on her ankle-bone.These three, unmasked now, bearDry witnessTo the gross eating gameWe’d wink at if we didn’t hearStars grinding, crumb by crumb,Our own grist down to its bony face.How they grip us through think and thick,These barnacle…
