here they come
these guys
grey truck
radio playing
they are in a hurry

she’s young, she said,
but look at me,
I have pretty ankles,
and look at my wrists, I have pret
wrists

there is always that space there
just before they get to us
that space
that fine relaxer
the breather

cimen altinda gecen 225 gunden son
kanini emip bitireli epey oldu, ar
bu isler boyle mi oluyor?
bu odada hala ask saatlerinin golg
birakip gittiginde asagi yukari he

at one stage in my life
I met a man who claimed to have
visited Pound at St. Elizabeths.
then I met a woman who not only
claimed to have visited

Jane, who has been dead for 31 yea
never could have
imagined that I would write a scre
days together
and

yes, they begin out in a willow, I
the starch mountains begin out in
and keep right on going without re
pumas and nectarines
somehow these mountains are like

she reads to me from the New York
which I don’t buy, don’t know
how they get in here, but it’s
something about the Mafia
one of the heads of the Mafia

the words have come and gone,
I sit ill.
the phone rings, the cats sleep.
Linda vacuums.
I am waiting to live,

sway with me, everything sad—
madmen in stone houses
without doors,
lepers steaming love and song
frogs trying to figure