A simple poem
About love is what I want
To write:   words
Without mystery, but
Shoulders touching
In a slow song,
                            Watching the
Words come out,
                            Like a snake
From its box, it winds
About our shoulders and
               Neck like a noose.
We wait on the bed
                            Scaffold
                                     To drop
Into its pit and hang
                       Hung up there.

                                                                                    7.12.59

Bancroft Library October 16, 2004
Transcribed by Jason Morris