When I went up to Haworth there was peace
Between my teeth. An ordinary heart
Beat. My ordinary hands moved easily.

Her warmth had fallen on silence, in spite of all promises. . .
rank after rank they bled, according to their caste
each rank a source for the next of savage harvest.

Home is helped into view a cluster
of first-reel iconographic
ships, much sunnier rays—

 On the western ghats of the city,
Children are bathing.
Husbands are burning their wives;

 Who is in snow?
Where is snow?
Is it raining ice?

Then I was younger and between towns
where people waited for me to sell them
either Styrofoam cups or glass figurines,

The grass is full of codes.
The signs are everywhere:
used condom, apple core, a baby’s sock.

Father’s books lying on the living-room floor
Must be divided into threes: art history,
Classical letters, and, left from my days here,

 Listening to guys talk, I’ve asked myself
why they think it’s hot to catch two women
in a clutch, I mean, to watch lesbians

Where did you think you were going with that gun?
Indebted and intended to wake you up, les amantes, I’ll
pull your trigger first when you least expect