On hillocks, us two,
Just killing time,
Racing up slopes,
Letting out the twine.
Mine, taken by the air first,

They arrayed you in funeral attire
And dragged you from crag to crag,
Transported you by zephyr -
Impregnated and exposed -
Half-hideous, half-beautified

Listen
a something sound tumbling and chu
Under it Ovid in Tomis the edge o
The low constant hum listen the bl
The icy Danube barbarian water

The current may move punishingly
And batter your little boat
So, at times,
You fear drowning
Dislocation.

I sat in your seat, scanned your d
Picked up a picture of your child,
Thumbed through out there beat
Cases of sound you played too loud
For dumbfounded classes, spellboun

Nebuchadnezzar summoned you there,
Robed in yellow and blue,
Anathema of Canaanites and angel
Wings on your back.
You shoved a knee between her thig

I think that I shall be leaving n
I bid you all adieu.
A midnight frown is on the brow
of each and all of you.
The weary night invites me down

They are coming for your teeth, yo
They are coming. Twine 's
Slinking round your feet,
Dreaming of the Hesperides.
A lodger in your own home,

You were no older at forty
Than you had been at twenty:
Still a crucible of determination,
A force not to be undermined.
You’d absconded once, by God,

Under the bellowing tree she calle
Dust motes dancing with dandelion
A muddle of sun cream, bug-sting a
Under the billowing tree she caugh
I saw the kingfish there:

Old Paris, flexing his quiver fin
lies down on the mountain side
and spies beneath his honest eyes
her of downy nape, in whose own gr
the desires of men, weaving

Holding a Glock in a Vegas range,
She is shaking and girlish,
Smiling and gawking for the filmer
Then, taking aim, a little off,
A little out, hitting low.

Rain-drop on leaf, rheumy-stained;
A single, impenetrable world falli
Holding, the difference between yo
It plays out its hair-tortoise fro
Elongates, encompasses all;

She was a child once,
Pulling the heads off dolls;
Pulling out fine pink nylon hair,
Exposing the trephined holes.
She’d pack up heads in a bag

Out of nowhere
Godly silence
Out of nowhere –
the noiseless god song –
There is unwinding. There is amas