When I walk in my house I see pic
bought long ago, framed and hangin
—de Kooning, Arp, Laurencin, Hen
that I’ve cherished and stared at
yet my eyes keep returning to the

Twelve people, most of us stranger
in Ann Arbor, drinking Cribari fr
Then two young men, who cooked him
carry him to the table
on a large square of plywood: his

1. Baseball, I warrant, is not
occupation of the aging boy.
Far from it: There are cats and r
there is her water body. She fills
the skin of her legs up, like wate

In the mid August, in the second
of my First Polar Expedition, the
almost upon us, Kantiuk and I
attempted to dash the sledge
along Crispin Bay, searching agai

August, goldenrod blowing. We wal
into the graveyard, to find
my grandfather’s grave. Ten years
I came here last, bringing
marigolds from the round garden

“Even when I danced erect
by the Nile’s garden
I constructed Necropolis.
Ten million fellaheen cells
of my body floated stones

“At pet stores in Detroit, you ca
frozen rats
for seventy-five cents apiece, to
your pet boa constrictor”
back home in Grosse Pointe,

Between pond and sheepbarn, by map
Rebecca paces a double line of rus
in a sandy trench, striding on bla
creosoted eight-by-eights.
In nineteen-forty-three,

A woman who lived
in a tree caught
the moon in a kettle.
The wind on the roof
of the tree thumped

All winter your brute shoulders st
and steerhide over the ash hames,
sledges of cordwood for drying thr
for the Glenwood stove next winter
In April you pulled cartloads of