By the limited repose which partakes
Of a late configurate.
Yet now with memory echoing,
Distinctive, recondite, without applause,
I recall your only splendor and the night
I held your image unconstitutional
Within my wrecking anns,
Hysterical in its element.
A sorrow pennanent resides beyond
My hypnotizing will. Now
tha~
your face
I no longer see, I cannot fake
Its near, delusional majesty.
Mina
Loy
IDIOT CHILD ON A FIRE·ESCAPE
Obedient as a bundle,
parked in your careful shawls,
you will not fall
into the exertions
of the earth under you.
having spilled,
on your way to becoming
your skill in Being.
Sunlight excessively
illumines your deep eyelids
domed awnings
over the somnolent
reluctance of your sight-
inverted cups
of mortal ivory,
almost emptied.
