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January 31, 2002
slowly, pro-cessionally climb the covers up
from the ice carpet
in that pinching-slightly, orange comfort moment--
that SHOULD BE comfort moment where
a mouse is. a mouse is in!
in truding on you.
lift the draped-up, from the floor up
onto the word sofa, on a plushed gingerly/angle
of comfy (careful!) upward. not to get the mouse up.
up, into your convalescence. a mouse is up.
you are up.
in the secretly yours hours of confinding.
healing, con sofa--what should you do?
you tap sharply. three times wood--three times wood,
then--SHOO!
scurry is the only worry, wordy charlie.
***
at night later, all is quiet. "Frost at Midnight."
an infant's gentle breathings, "hhleh."
mock study on my swimming book
the sole unquiet thing
is swimming--in my swimming pool
whose puny flaps & freaks the idling spirit
with all the numberless goings-on of life
the love. the property.
property holding. the pursuit
of past due dates
on little bright books
you got over.
tufts of snow on the bare branch.
while the nigh-thatch smokes
in the sun thaw.
***
What a century for hands!
What usury! I hate, (I realize)
all forms of trade
One must...enter politics, be saved.
I could reel it off--
I have the whole thing by heart.
Up late nothing!
Nothing of the logic of madness--
the madness that gets
locked up
Go to it, demon!
Go to the palm fronds.
Go to the wind in 'em.
What, is he doing it?
One or two-more?
No, now I am cursed,
I'm in trouble I hate my country!
Better to sleep it off
on the beach, dead drunk
like a carrot-toter,
like a dirty rat.