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Guards demand we waltz the teeming hedge soldiers spread but can’t quell what wells worthwhile’s a made shape wafting about in the night so green all bright ornament and creamy delay I take off my hat I get off and walk O skin be strong expand rewardable range build steady wealth of shared play don’t end at lending nouns to property consult the ear consult the air claim common right to lick up excess as a lock’s for frisking a gale’s gaping gate they say the submarine which waves no flag is a violator vessel how soft its coax how smooth its thick white head adorned and anointed the bodies of my loves the fear grins of great apes

There's nothing more erotic than one      red Chilean plum slumbered in the brown palm of the curved hand of the right man.

A B H O R E N C E S November 10, 1984 Death by over-seasoning: Herbicide Death by annoyance: Pesticide Death by suffocation: Carbon monoxide Death by burning: Firecide Death by falling: Cliffcide Death by hiking: Trailcide Death by camping: Campcide Death by drowning:       Rivercide Lakecide Oceancide Death from puking: Curbcide Death from boredom: Hearthcide Death at the hands of the medical profession: Dockcide Death from an overnight stay: Inncide Death by suprise: Backcide Death by blow to the head: Upcide Death from delirious voting: Rightcide Death from hounding: Leftcide Death through war: Theircide & Ourcide Death by penalty: Offcide Death following a decision: Decide

There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs And islands of Winander! many a time, At evening, when the earliest stars began To move along the edges of the hills, Rising or setting, would he stand alone, Beneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake; And there, with fingers interwoven, both hands Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth Uplifted, he, as through an instrument, Blew mimic hootings to the silent owls That they might answer him.—And they would shout Across the watery vale, and shout again, Responsive to his call,—with quivering peals, And long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud Redoubled and redoubled; concourse wild Of jocund din! And, when there came a pause Of silence such as baffled his best skill: Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise Has carried far into his heart the voice Of mountain-torrents; or the visible scene Would enter unawares into his mind With all its solemn imagery, its rocks, Its woods, and that uncertain heaven received Into the bosom of the steady lake. This boy was taken from his mates, and died In childhood, ere he was full twelve years old. Pre-eminent in beauty is the vale Where he was born and bred: the churchyard hangs Upon a slope above the village-school; And through that churchyard when my way has led On summer-evenings, I believe that there A long half-hour together I have stood Mute—looking at the grave in which he lies!

There was a little girl, Who had a little curl, Right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, She was very good indeed, But when she was bad she was horrid.

Except another black girl was with me. Mother. Always lonely. I am always. Mother those girls. Forty-two. March summer. Light blue. Vermont. Endless crescent. Invert as a tyke lake. Fernet Mother, I'm grown. Forest. San Francisco. Lone cold. Stone turd. Talk three or none. Kidding. Kidding.

There was an old man of Thermopylæ, Who never did anything properly; But they said, "If you choose, To boil eggs in your shoes, You shall never remain in Thermopylæ."

There was an old man on the Border, Who lived in the utmost disorder; He danced with the cat, and made tea in his hat, Which vexed all the folks on the Border.

There was an Old Man with a beard, Who said, "It is just as I feared!— Two Owls and a Hen, four Larks and a Wren, Have all built their nests in my beard.

There was an old person of Nice, Whose associates were usually Geese. They walked out together, in all sorts of weather. That affable person of Nice!