Paula is digging and shaping the loam of a salvia,

In the ends of my fingers the itch for another man’s neck, I want to see him hanging, one of dusk’s cartoons against the sunset.This is the hate my father gave me, this was in my mother’s milk, this is you and me and all of us in a world of hoodlums-maybe so.Let us go…

And the stars follow the sunsets. One gold star. A shower of blue stars. Blurs of white and gray stars. Vast marching processions of stars arching over you flat lands where frogs sob this April night.‘Lots for Sale-Easy Terms’ run letters painted on a board-and the stars wheel onward, the frogs sob this April night.

She went like a swine, because she called neither on me, her brother, nor on her father, before leaving for those forests.That is where she ought to live, with bears, not with men.She was something of an ape before and there, with her wild husband, she became altogether an ape.No honest person would have done…

The Romans wore glad rags and told their neighbors, ‘What of it? ‘The Carlovingians hauling logs on carts, they tooStuck their noses in the air and stuck their thumbs to their nosesAnd tasted life as a symphonic dream of fresh eggs broken over a frying pan left by an uncle who killed men with spears…

remembering heart.Jaurès, a great love-heart of France,a slug of lead in the red valves.Kitchener of Khartoum, tall, cold, proud,a shark’s mouthful.Franz Josef, the old man of forty hauntedkingdoms, in a tomb with the Hapsburgfathers, moths eating a green uniformto tatters, worms taking all and leavingonly bones and gold buttons, bones andiron crosses.Jack London, Jim Riley,…

It sits lookingover harbor and cityon silent haunchesand then moves on.