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and now you’ve made a fool of me…

I’m sorry, I said, I’m really sorry.

hold me, she said, will you please hold me?

I’ve never been in one of these things before, I said,

these triangles…

she got up and lit a cigarette, she was trembling all

over. she paced up and down, wild and crazy. she had

a small body. her arms were thin, very thin and when

she screamed and started beating me I held her

wrists and then I got it through the eyes: hatred,

centuries deep and true. I was wrong and graceless and

sick. all the things I had learned had been wasted.

there was no living creature as foul as I

and all my poems were

false.

the girls

I have been looking at

the same

lampshade

for

5 years

and it has gathered

a bachelor’s dust

and

the girls who enter here

are too

busy

to clean it

but I don’t mind

I have been too

busy

to notice

until now

that the light

shines

badly

through

5 years’

worth.

the ladies of summer

the ladies of summer will die like the rose

and the lie

the ladies of summer will love

so long as the price is not

forever

the ladies of summer

might love anybody;

they might even love you

as long as summer

lasts

yet winter will come to them

too

white snow and

a cold freezing

and faces so ugly

that even death

will turn away—

wince—

before taking them.

tonight

“your poems about the girls will still be around

50 years from now when the girls are gone,”

my editor phones me.

dear editor:

the girls appear to be gone

already.

I know what you mean

but give me one truly alive woman

to night

walking across the floor toward me

and you can have all the poems

the good ones

the bad ones

or any that I might write

after this one.

I know what you mean.

do you know what I mean?

shoes

when you’re young

a pair of

female

high-heeled shoes

just sitting

alone

in the closet

can fire your

bones;

when you’re old

it’s just

a pair of shoes

without

anybody

in them

and

just as

well.

hug the dark

turmoil is the god

madness is the god

permanent living peace is

permanent living death.

agony can kill

or agony can sustain life

but peace is always horrifying

peace is the worst thing

walking

talking

smiling,

seeming to be.

don’t forget the sidewalks

the whores,

betrayal,

the worm in the apple,

the bars, the jails,

the suicides of lovers.

here in America

we have assassinated a president and his brother,

another president has quit office.

people who believe in politics

are like people who believe in god:

they are sucking wind through bent

straws.

there is no god

there are no politics

there is no peace

there is no love

there is no control

there is no plan

stay away from god

remain disturbed

slide.

face of a political candidate on a street billboard

there he is:

not too many hangovers

not too many fights with women

not too many flat tires

never a thought of suicide

not more than three toothaches

never missed a meal

never in jail

never in love

7 pairs of shoes

a son in college

a car one year old

insurance policies

a very green lawn

garbage cans with tight lids

he’ll be elected.

white dog

I went for a walk on Hollywood Boulevard.

I looked down and there was a large white dog

walking beside me.

his pace was exactly the same as mine.

we stopped at traffic signals together.

we crossed the side streets together.

a woman smiled at us.

he must have walked 8 blocks with me.

then I went into a grocery store and

when I came out he was gone.

or she was gone.

the wonderful white dog

with a trace of yellow in its fur.

the large blue eyes were gone.

the grinning mouth was gone.

the lolling tongue was gone.

things are so easily lost.

things just can’t be kept forever.

I got the blues.

I got the blues.

that dog loved and

trusted me and

I let it walk away.

on going out to get the mail

the droll noon