On the first page of my dreambook It’s always evening In an occupied country. Hour before the curfew. A small provincial city.

Not a peep out of you now After the bedlam early this mornin… Are you begging pardon of me Hidden up there among the leaves, Or are your brains momentarily ove…

As an ant is powerless Against a raised boot, And only has an instant To have a bright idea or two. The black boot so polished,

How much death works, No one knows what a long Day he puts in. The little Wife always alone Ironing death’s laundry.

Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heaven… What they thought about Stayed the same,

A world’s disappearing. Little street, You were too narrow, Too much in the shade already. You had only one dog,

I liked my little hole, Its window facing a brick wall. Next door there was a piano. A few evenings a month a crippled old man came to play

A New Version: 1980 What is that little black thing I… in the white? Walt Whitman One

Father studied theology through th… And this was exam time. Mother knitted. I sat quietly wit… Full of pictures. Night fell. My hands grew cold touching the fa…

Your mother carried you Out of the smoking ruins of a buil… And set you down on this sidewalk Like a doll bundled in burnt rags, Where you now stood years later

Green Buddhas On the fruit stand. We eat the smile And spit out the teeth.

The obvious is difficult To prove. Many prefer The hidden. I did, too. I listened to the trees. They had a secret

Boss of all bosses of the universe… Mr. know-it-all, wheeler-dealer, w… And whatever else you’re good at. Go ahead, shuffle your zeros tonig… Dip in ink the comets’ tails.

Seems like a long time Since the waiter took my order. Grimy little luncheonette, The snow falling outside. Seems like it has grown darker

Extraordinary efforts are being ma… To hide things from us, my friend. Some stay up into the wee hours To search their souls. Others undress each other in darke…