Boswell– you old rake– I have tri… your style; but it is no use; my d… all between my selves: and though… make endless notes and jottings th… my memory– it is in vain– for in t…

A bespectacled artist called Lear First perfected this smile in a sn… He was clever and witty; He gave life to this ditty - That original author called Lear.

You are the first muse who came to… The others began & ended with… or a glance or a kiss between stan… the others strode away in the poin… or were kicked out by the stiletto…

. .Who shall measure the heat and violence of the poet’s heart when… and tangled in a woman’s body? —Virginia Woolf Every month,

At the edge of the body there is said to be a flaming halo– yellow, red, blue or pure white,

You take me to the restaurant wher… plays God over a fish tank. The f… pace their green cage, waiting to… out of an element. Who knows what… There are thirteen in a tank meant

Meathooks, notebooks, the whole city sky palely flaming & spectral bombs hitting that patch of river I see from my eastern window.

Dear Colette, I want to write to you about being a woman for that is what you write to me. I want to tell you how your face

He says he is a perfect poet. He lives alone, with his perfect m… & sometimes they don’t even sp… So perfectly do they ‘communicate.… He lives alone, his greatest pleas…

The first snow of the year & you lying between my breasts in my husband’s house & the snow gently rising in my… like guilt,

Cement up to the neck & my head packed with unsaid words. A gullet full of pebbles, a mouth

I put our books face to face so they could talk. They whispered about us. I put yours on top of mine. They would not mate.

The experience of fear is not an o… —J. Krishnamurti In dreams I descend into the cave of my past: a child with a morgue-tag

My love is too much– it embarrasses you– blood, poems, babies, red needs that telephone from foreign countries,

Rising in the morning like warm bread, from a bed in America, the aroma