This last continent Still to be discovered. My hand is dreaming, is building Its ship. For crew it takes A pack of bones, for food

With only his dim lantern To tell him where he is And every time a mountain Of fresh corpses to load up Take them to the other side

Millions were dead; everybody was… I stayed in my room. The Presiden… Spoke of war as of a magic love po… My eyes were opened in astonishmen… In a mirror my face appeared to me

Shoes, secret face of my inner lif… Two gaping toothless mouths, Two partly decomposed animal skins Smelling of mice-nests. My brother and sister who died at…

One shows me how to lie down in a… Another how to slip my hand under… Another how to kiss with a mouth f… Another how to catch fireflies in… Here is a stable with a single bla…

There was a melon fresh from the g… So ripe the knife slurped As it cut it into six slices. The children were going back to sc… Their mother, passing out paper pl…

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…

The night still frightens you. You know it is interminable And of vast, unimaginable dimensio… “That’s because His insomnia is p… You’ve read some mystic say.

The one who had been whispering All along in this empty theater And whose voice I just heard— Or imagined I did Distracted as I was by my own tho…

Enter without knocking, hard-worki… I’m just sitting here mulling over What to do this dark, overcast day… It was a night of the radio turned… Fitful sleep, vague, troubling dre…

Of the light in my room: Its mood swings, Dark-morning glooms, Summer ecstasies. Spider on the wall,

Where it says snow read teeth-marks of a virgin Where it says knife read you passed through my bones like a police-whistle

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

The brightly-painted horse Had a boy’s face, And four small wheels Under his feet, Plus a long string

They arrive inside They object at evening. There’s no one to meet them. The lamps they carry Cast their shadows