Winter Poem



It's late at night,

and the werld
flers
through me like light
"in my dreams"

all I do is hold still
itching and scratching in vague trust
of some kind of

I go and sit on the toilet, groggy
feel a draft and wish it were winter
whoops, it is winter, only warm
it's a warm winter and I wish it would snow
actually it's been the next morning for some time
I couldn't sleep last night

and grown weary of all that's less than tiers of spider
webs discovered mounting toward the blocked-off moon
many levels below the surface of the sea in the hold
of this wooden
toy, and I have seen

the tear drops of young maidens repeatedly having
been fucked because they liked it, still surprised and precious
wielding and I tasted her lips, lips have such
various tastes, for instance: moss of parked firetrucks; for
instance: deer tropes

and it is brought to me tenderly
Where is the most information? It's Wednesday morning
9:40 a.m., February 25, 1998 on the Lower East Side, New York City
and I am totally without joy
except that which might follow from succeeding at this

I'd like the snow to flow through me, but no big deal
among the fields of earthly works. We poor humans
have our part and it's to speak
I saw someone say that
intimacy
is telling all. That's frightening
but what the hell. "All" doesn't mean anything

What I really like is other people's books
How can I make that into good writing of my own?
February
and I will break
out of this little
roof-cup
We poor humans have
our part, known widely as the poor human part
though sometimes as the ur puma part
because I think it's a mistake to be more
humancentric than absolutely necessary: humans are a small part

but a speaking one!

all those damn poets with their
lines, videlicit: "Poetry is the past that breaks out in our hearts,"
"Your nakedness: the sound when I break an apple in half,"
"A glass of chocolate milk, head of lettuce, dark-
ness of clouds at one o'clock obsess me," that's
all fine for them, but things
like that only work once

which is poetry, and this line
will never be said again



[1999]







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