Darkness washes over you . . .
      Only the sofas are safe under the lamps’ umbrellas . . .
I feel the earth so fully, beaten beneath the floor, the asphalt,

Yellow apple
star inside the apple
seed star     quiet

A Coney Island of Las Vegas styles,
Caleta lies all Danae to the sun; 
Naked as greed, careless of voyeur smiles... 

On the yellow walls of my patio
Five lizards lurk like sin, waiting for flies—
Women want love. In gay Acapulco

All this rain in the place where it rarely rains.
Eyes trained on the sky as if for smoke,
as if for news of the next doddering pope.

No wonder the Antwerp teashops
refuse him—except with a heel of bread
through the back door. Held out

When I am nine, the British quit
India. Headmaster says, "The Great
Mutiny started it." We repeat.

sal               salt-torn and and split salzgeriss    rissen
the limbmap of me li lifted
ju juniper bud          risen salthead

he unsung me from sound scattered bright my red eye eyes unhooked now from the circle of cedar pine cedar silver the beetles went went silent then stonebite one bite burst the rhythm of the sky of a field of of air electric 

                                                                       if ever again 
                                                                       with the waves 
                                                                       the dog’s way east