I am not interested in my body– the part that stinks & rots & brings forth life,

For Jennifer Josephy On cold days it is easy to be reasonable, to button the mouth against kisses… dust the breasts

Spring, rainbows, ordinary miracles about which nothing new can be said. The stars on a clear night

The old poet with his face full of lines, with iambs jumping in his hair lik… with all the revisions of his body unsaying him,

Could I unthink you, little heart, what would I do? throw you out with last night’s garbage,

In the chest is caged bat who seeks escape through the mouth. He flaps his wings & the molars shiver.

People who live by the sea understand eternity. They copy the curves of the waves, their hearts beat with the tides, & the saltiness of their blood

You gave me the child that seamed my belly & stitched up my life. You gave me: one book of love poem… five years of peace

A delicate border. A nonexistent… The train obligingly dissolves in… The G.I. next to me is talking wa… I don’t ‘know the Asian mind,’ he… Moving through old arguments.

Looking for a place where we might turn off the inner dialogue, the monologue of futures & regrets,

We sit on a rock to allow our souls to catch up with us. We have been traveling a long time.

I love to go to sleep, When bed takes me like a lover wrapping my limbs in cool linen, soothing the fretfulness

Boswell– you old rake– I have tri… your style; but it is no use; my d… all between my selves: and though… make endless notes and jottings th… my memory– it is in vain– for in t…