rejoice, in fact,
over the quiet self-complacence of the toaster.

In the country, a dog is as free as a roach

“The figure should be natural and relaxed,”
   asserted Mucha to his drawing class,

Never was there a time when I did not lead him,
when I did not feel his hand upon my shoulder.

“I couldn’t think of taking
anything that was whole.”

One morning I awoke
to a dead pigeon on the roof
of the building next to mine,

No lily grows from coal, the obscene mole descends
And wends, bending ahead of pressure from his home,
Digging the window and the door, filing the floor

It seems no air or any other thing 
Pretends to help; and you, defeated now,
But visibilities, your balm and clue,

Afterwards I said the palm tree was like a snake
coiling around the delicate outdoor bannister
but Janette said like a swan courting a swan.

So much about the place was lies.
The marble walls that were wood.
The stone grillwork, like coral.