No matter what life you leadthe virgin is a lovely number:cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper,arms and legs made of Limoges,lips like Vin Du Rhône,rolling her china-blue doll eyesopen and shut
Open to say,
Good Day Mama,and shut for the...
Mr
Beringer, whose sonfell at the Canal that strangers dugso ships could cross the desert,crosses my path at Jaffa Gate
He has grown very thin, has lostthe weight of his son
That's why he floats so lightly in the alleysand gets caug...
In the stillest hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together and thus conversed in whisper:
First Self:
Here, in this madman,
I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but renew his pain by day and rec...
———A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?