196.
How heavy the weight of blank paper
carried all my life in blunt
photography
spiritual effluent of Eusapia
Palladino
the crux of psychic plausibility
does all this light come out of one
woman’s body
is there any other source for
splendor in the world
om tare tutare ture soha
she is sixteen still green in the
ways of men
and she alone can save us from
calamity
or tell us who can
listen to the green girl at last
the ever-virgin the truth the wisdom
sleeps beside me.
197.
As if in mime an elegant body told
the whole story from grass to
cathédrale
innumerable declensions of her single
noun
the dancer absolute
so the mild persistent taste of
moving anywhere
from lawn to grass again the poor
smell of money too
we live in poverty we shadows of some
great wealth
the potentates whose kingdoms fit in
their wallets
they rule the world but we could too
as this lone dancer springs up from
the sounding floor
and with a single swerve of movement
changes space forever in the way we
see.
