55.
Falstaff rises from the water subtly
changed
his laundry basket floats away
downstream
here he’s as wet brand-new as Moses
it takes more than shame to wash old
lusts away
rush of the wild ox through fields of
barley
the maiden thrilled at last consents
to be cast into the contingency of
another’s desire
these are what we forget as we walk mild
in the street
caught in the meshes of other
people’s fantasies
read Coleridge chapter XIII how
little we dare to create
how much we brilliantly remember
use the typewriter at the bottom of
the well.
56.
There is no mainland it’s all Ocean
River
coarse voices of drowned fishermen
finally learn to whisper as the waves
kiss shore
hush and hiss and come between our
skin
in a child’s voice we hear last
echoes of someone else
lost echo Hart Crane to be a poet in
America how strange
take the rhymes away and then you’ll
see
language is continuous I’m giving you
soft white as new parchment and a
bird at my foot
it’s starting again a raft of meaning
floats up and down your spine this
trembling reed
as if you were married to a baker and
slept in his bread.
