the ‘Inbox’ lights up with ‘Bethany’ and clarions like room service
from the distant past: ‘Ride the shock waves of changes,
full circles, and settling or shaken perspectives…’
the feverish reply launched into the echoing miles of ether
...
I went absent leaving you for Chicago
The hotel became a hospital
I signed my committal form at reception
...
To P.M.B.
1
The cut aches beneath eyelids of sky a glimpse of cherry red
...
George rules from his riverside bookshop
four storeys high along rue de la Bûcherie
Proudly claiming Walt Whitman as his ancestor—
Shelf after laden-shelf rising like wine racks in the city
...
He squats all gold
unpierced by nails—
head crowned by sunlight
no blood stains, no spear or vinegar
...
Professor-poet invited
the Mexican poet, the Indian poet and the Jamaican poet
to his house for dinner
greeting them with
...
I've lost you then or is it you've lost me
and once more on the newsfront what a mess
I did, you did go deep we both felt free
it's wiser not to damn but somehow bless
...
Pound praised you in a letter
‘promising' typed Ezra
Not in the cast of thousands
In those necropolyptic Cantos
...
The sky is a mere exhibition in pools of rain until the sun
unfolds the froth of clouds casting off cosmic oceans
of light and without horizon limitless, where there is silence
...