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

often it is the only
thing
between you and
impossibility.
no drink,

at the track today,
Father’s Day,
each paid admission was
entitled to a wallet
and each contained a

it sits outside my window now
like and old woman going to market
it sits and watches me,
it sweats nevously
through wire and fog and dog—bark

this man used to be an
interesting writer,
he was able to say brisk and
refreshing things.
at the time

the best often die by their own ha
just to get away,
and those left behind
can never quite understand
why anybody

I see old people on pensions in th
supermarkets and they are thin and
proud and they are dying
they are starving on their feet an
nothing. long ago, among other lie

I read a book about John Dos Pas
the book once radical—communist
John ended up in the Hollywood Hi
and reading the
Wall Street Journal

—he’s a dandy
—small moustache
—usually sucking on a cigar
he tends to lean into cars as he
transacts business

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train