"One is worked in roses, the other in flowers and leaves "
Her waist's pulled in, she's got a baby too
"When everything Eyptian was the fashion"
Now the milk's down and the wind's up
"This queen surrounded by her family"
Stirring the honey locust tree
"And decrees of fashion from which there was rio appeal"
I do touch each in order as I think
Some part knowing what poetry could be
No one's ever taken this book from the library
Since 1893, I swear
Moon's made it above the trees, milk's become custardlike in
the tank I hope, friends enjoy the wind like fried food,
I forgot, they'll be up soon, can this be exercise, is
it dry or wet in the air, I won't turn the lights on but
you do if you like, we're in the Antarctic now, your bright
shirt against the white even more gorgeous than before,
I don't feel it yet, I'm thinking about the order of
these ideas, I forgot to think in the library, empty
where I could yell for you if I needed to without disturbing
a reader, carpets on floors, the big globe, books on the
missing link, nothing on social security in this whole
library, this is the missing idea, money, and my look in
the library, between the daytime and night I'm getting
older, a big guy like a hairsplitter or grasshopper
has come now into my room, he's feeling his way upward
with five legs and two antennae, a long tail like a fat neck
in back, the tree's still moving, this moment still tentative,
capitalism and materialism still here, a book about an old
man, a young man still at the south pole, a loud noise
signifying death to me, a paper out the window into the
wind,
he's gotten further up the wall , head first like me, now
fallen down suddenly on all five feet, I've got the five
aces again and I don ' t know how ·to show them, a big
gregarious
grasshopper head, starting up the same wall over again, he
has no way of perching or being secure, but five legs give
you dignity, no, there are six!
