Learning the Trees
Before you can learn the trees, you have to
The language of the trees
That's done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of
Before you can learn the trees, you have to
The language of the trees
That's done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of
Across the millstream below the bridge Seven blue swallows divide the air In shapes invisible and evanescent,
Kaleidoscopic beyond the mind’s Or memory’s power to keep them there
“History is where tensions were,” “Form is the diagram of ...
I tell you that I see her still At the dark entrance of the hall
One gas lamp burning near her shoulder Shone also from her other side Where hung the long inaccurate glass Whose pictures were as troubled water
An immense shadow had its h...
This morning, between two branches of a
Beside the door, epeira once
Has spun and signed his tapestry and trap
I test his early-warning system
I met a guy I used to know, who said:"You take your '57 Karnak, now,
The model that they called their Coop de
That had the pointy rubber boobs for bumpers—You take that car, owned by a nigger
Likelier'n not, with half its chromium
A door sunk in a hillside, with a bolt thick as the boy’s arm, and behind that door the walls of ice, melting a blue, faint light, an air of cedar branches, sawdust, fern: decaying seasons keeping from decay
A summer guest, the boy had never ...
You see them vanish in their speeding cars,
The many people hastening through the world,
And wonder what they would have done
This time of time speed distance, random
Unbridled licentiousness with no holds barred,
Immediate and mutual lust,
In the heat, upon demand, aroused
And satisfied again, lechery unlimited
Innocence
In a sense
In no sense
Was that it
This admirable gadget, when it
Wound on a string and spun with steady force,
Maintains its balance on most any
Surface, pleasantly humming as it goes
They're taking down a tree at the front door,
The power saw is snarling at some nerves,
Whining at others
Now and then it grunts,
Flaubert wanted to write a
About nothing
It was to have no
And be sustained upon the style alone,