278.
So that everything fits into one
thing
the voice of that one thing is heard
the grace you give me let me tell you
everything
the slow highway to Toronto roadhouse
on the lake
the crowded yellow bed in Montreal
the waterfall in Assam
all of these could be my name
but comedy is finished the epic
begins
my cousin’s will in probate lyric as
a lotus
my grandfather looked like Wallace
Stevens but he could smile
haven’t I followed Dante step by step
if your ears are clean you will hear
my Tuscan lisp.
279.
It scares me when I get personal
like those dreams you’re half naked
we are never fully undone though
even death is only half the dance
so I can tell you everything
till I have nothing left
and your skin will still be cool on
the coverlet
and sleep will tell me some more lies
the kind I can live with
there is no socialist remedy for this
situation
except do everything for the other
guy
if you can ever find anybody really
different.
