This man makes a pseudonym And crawls behind it like a worm. This woman on the telephone Says she is a man, not a woman. The mask increases, eats the worm,

The telegram says you have gone aw… And left our bankrupt circus on it… There is nothing more for me to sa… The maestro gives the singing bird… And they buy tickets for the tropi…

Color floods to the spot, dull pur… The rest of the body is all washed… The color of pearl. In a pit of rock The sea sucks obsessively,

Tell me what you see in it: The pine tree like a Rorschach—bl… black against the orange light: Plant an orange pumpkin patch which at twelve will quaintly hatc…

The nose—end that twitches, the ol… Tolerable now as moles on the face Put up with until chagrin gives pl… To a wry complaisance—— Dug in first as God’s spurs

You said you would kill it this mo… Do not kill it. It startles me st… The jut of that odd, dark head, pa… Through the uncut grass on the elm… It is something to own a pheasant,

Compelled by calamity’s magnet They loiter and stare as if the ho… Burnt—out were theirs, or as if th… Some scandal might any minute ooze From a smoke—choked closet into li…

By the roots of my hair some god g… I sizzled in his blue volts like a… The nights snapped out of sight li… A world of bald white days in a sh… A vulturous boredom pinned me in t…

From under the crunch of my man’s… green oat-sprouts jut; he names a lapwing, starts rabbits… legging it most nimble to sprigged hedge of bramble,