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THESE PLEASURES ARE REAL FOR ME
These pleasures are real for me— But they are not real for you, Rosalinda; And it’s sad to think that nothing Is really shared, for if pleasure isn’t shared, What is? Two looking at a sunset or making...
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WHAT YOU WERE LOVELY FOR
What you were lovely for Was so I—I could adore, And, with poetry, add more Loveliness. That’s what your loveliness was for. Your loveliness is yours: Oh! many mansions, oh! many doors! When you let...
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SELFISH POET!
Selfish poet, I know you would not tell The sweet things if you found love. We only hear from you because you live in hell. The woman you loved, left. Your poetry is pathetic, bereft, And you write it...
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THE SCIENTIFIC GOD
The scientific God told me the origin Of the universe one morning when gloom Hung upon the hills. I was the only one in the room. The scientists were on a holiday In Bengal. The scientific God had...
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YESTERDAY FOR AN HOUR
Yesterday, for an hour, I was gay. Yesterday, for an hour, in the city, In a scientific kind of way. In a pure and contemplative mood, I realized women’s faces Were less handsome male faces— So I...
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OIL: THE FOREST IS RIGHT, THE TREES ARE WRONG
The forest is right and the trees are wrong. I don’t need the singing if I have the song. You don’t want to fight me, but if you must, Come at me with trees. I’ve got the forest. Every decision you...
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YES. HER DAY. A MOTHER’S DAY POEM
Where are the geniuses today? Techno-leisure has created such a mass of dweebs Who have no poetry in their soul, it’s hopeless to look there. Genius happens between the voluntary and the involuntary:...
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A SIGH SINCERELY SIGHED
I saw a lady in an emptying train, sighing. Troubles are infinite, But when you see someone sigh, sometimes you know why. The exiting passengers filed past the lady; She was in no hurry to leave her...
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I CAN FIX THIS
I can fix this, you’ll see. The best always starts badly, The dry and handsome starts wet and small. If you didn’t start as a little shit you wouldn’t be here at all. I can fix this. The...
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THE JUDGMENT
Judging her beautiful, my judgement is what joys To find her in my arms. Judgment is not dour, for how can a judge be dour When judgement approves of all these charms? I judge her sweet when she is...
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THE ACTRESS
You have to see her in person When some high passion moves her. Life puts its arms around theater And crushes it. You cannot fake What she does. No one could. She doesn’t fake it. That’s why she’s so...
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A CONSERVATIVE HEART
For Anita Hill What could she say at graduation? Be good to those different from you, Stop violence, work hard. Her name An inspiration to feminism; so many Honorary degrees bestowed; but I wonder, In...
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LOVE IS A COVE
Love is a cove. Protected by hills, Cities in protected bays thrive, Every avenue meant for love. The inaccessible port quickly fills. The lighthouse blinks love to arrive or leave. With scientific...
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LOVE SAID THIS TO ANGER
Only when I was angry, was I in love with you. But my angry moods were just too few To really be in love with you. I remember when I was in a rage, A poet in a prose cage, Saying to myself, “This will...
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I AM JUST AS GOOD AS YOU
I am just as good as you. Even commie scum have their pride, And being just as good as you Is how—completely naked—they hide. You have other things to consider, Your complex relationship is difficult...
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THE DOUBLE FEAR
When I came looking for the deer, She and I were simple predator and prey. It might be said I felt a kind of fear To lose her; hers? It made her run away. I feared starvation. I held my breath,...
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THERE CAN BE NO PERFECT WOMAN
There can be no perfect woman. You can’t put a handsome, regal head On this swimsuit model’s frame— It would look ridiculous. Beauty And brains together are most desired; But beauty is the end, and...
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I CANNOT DESCRIBE IT TO YOU NOW
The clouds were worried. Understanding the sky had taken days: Over the ocean, the high reach of the evaporated haze, Clumping into cumulus, struck colder, drier air. Mutability stays. The mountain...
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SEE
Now, Rosalinda, it doesn’t matter. The echo has faded, the exhibit is gone, The rusting boats in the park are abandoned, a splatter Which was a bodily spill of some kind Has fled to the curator’s...
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MAY IS THE MONTH TO BE IMMORTAL
May is the month to be immortal, to love The scent of blossoms, to love All that makes the landscape new As it grows. That would be mostly you. I cannot be immortal for another moment Unless I...
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