Those groans men use passing a woman on the street or on the steps of the subway to tell her she is a female and their flesh knows it,

Genial poets, pink-faced earnest wits— you have given the world some choice morsels, gobbets of language presented

The red eyes of rabbits aren’t sad. No one passes the sad golden village in a barge any more. The sunset will leave it alone. If the

The ache of marriage: thigh and tongue, beloved, are heavy with it, it throbs in the teeth We look for communion

A voice from the dark called out, “The poets must give us imagination of peace, to oust the… imagination of disaster. Peace, no… the absence of war.”

Brown gas-fog, white beneath the street lamps. Cut off on three sides, all space… with our bodies. Bodies that stumble

O Eros, silently smiling one, hea… Let the shadow of thy wings brush me. Let thy presence enfold me, as if darkness

Weier Tagesanbruch. Stille. Als… hielt ich es für Seewind, in unser… von Salz, von baumlosen Horizonte… bewegte sich nicht; das Laub meine… regungslos.

Delivered out of raw continual pai… smell of darkness, groans of those… to whom he was chained— unchained, and led past the sleepers,

High in the jacaranda shines the g… of a small bird’s curlicue of song… for her to see or hear. I’ve learned not to say, these last years,

The clouds as I see them, rising urgently, roseate in the mounting of somber power surging in evening haste over roofs and hermetic

Turn from that road’s beguiling ea… to your hunger’s turret. Enter, cl… chill with disuse, where the croak… regards from shimmering eyes your… and the drip, drip, of darkness gl…

The cat is eating the roses: that’s the way he is. Don’t stop him, don’t stop the world going round, that’s the way things are.

Something is very gently, invisibly, silently, pulling at me-a thread or net of threads finer than cobweb and as