Different days,
Different hours,
Many faces,
bouqutes of flowers,
...
The brow of a horse in that moment when
The horse is drinking water so deeply from a trough
It seems to inhale the water, is holy.
...
My love and I are inventing a country, which we
can already see taking shape, as if wheels were
passing through yellow mud. But there is a prob-
lem: if we put a river in the country, it will thaw
...
The trees went up the hill
And over it.
Then the dry grasses of the pasture were
Only a kind of blonde light
...
My youth? I hear it mostly in the long, volleying
Echoes of billiards in the pool hall where
I spent it all, extravagantly, believing
...
1.
Looking into the eyes of Gerard de Nerval
You notice the giant sea crabs rising.
...
Sister once of weeds & a dark water that held still
In ditches reflecting the odd,
Abstaining clouds that passed, & kept
...
At Wilshire & Santa Monica I saw an opossum
Trying to cross the street. It was late, the street
Was brightly lit, the opossum would take
...
Now that the Summer of Love has become the moss of tunnels
And the shadowy mouths of tunnels & all the tunnels lead into the city,
...
Someday, when you are twenty-four and walking through
The street of a foreign city...
Let me go with you a little way,
...