If grief could burn out Like a sunken coal The heart would rest quiet The unrent soul Be as still as a veil

For nations vague as weed, For nomads among stones, Small—statured cross—faced tribes And cobble—close families In mill—towns on dark mornings

The large cool store selling cheap… Set out in simple sizes plainly (Knitwear, Summer Casuals, Hose, In Browns and greys, maroons and… Conjures the weekday world of thos…

Since the majority of me Rejects the majority of you, Debating ends forwith, and we Divide. And sure of what to do We disinfect new blocks of days

New eyes each year Find old books here, And new books, too, Old eyes renew; So youth and age

They say eyes clear with age, As dew clarifies air To sharpen evenings, As if time put an edge Round the last shape of things

The little lives of earth and form… Of finding food, and keeping warm, Are not like ours, and yet A kinship lingers nonetheless: We hanker for the homeliness

The trumpet’s voice, loud and auth… Draws me a moment to the lighted g… To watch the dancers —all under tw… Solemnly on the beat of happiness. –Or so I fancy, sensing the smoke…

Light spreads darkly downwards fro… Clusters of lights over empty chai… That face each other, coloured dif… Through open doors, the dining—roo… A larger loneliness of knives and…

Boys dream of native girls who bri… Whatever they are, As bribes to teach them how to exe… Sixteen sexual positions on the sa… This makes them join (the boys) th…