25.
Open the carpenter take out the door
electric circuits switch in cut-open
thorax
the whole world an autopsy of God you
say
but mind is the only kind
girls are prettiest when they stand
on bridges
men so empty on the way to work
soon forget how I began
her green Celt eyes do work for everything
that lives
motherhood is made of gift
no man has a father a father passes
I was getting ready to revise the
planet
carried some old books up the stairs
to bed.
26.
Now to come at last to answer me
a bookcase on the moon he found
deer browsing in the surf
what is there for a Christian in all
these trees
civilized by language the Irish slept
is there no question ever for all my
answers
I have tried so hard to say them
clear
clouds white as nuns pass without remark
every percept demands memorial
an alternate universe made of simple
sentences
suppose there were a gender to each thing
rufous towhee in the bayberries loud.
