Snowfall, thicker and thicker,
dovecolored, like yesterday,
snowfall, as if you had been asleep just now.

I told you
When you buy monkeys
You have to take the ones that are very lively and who almost scare you

Three prisoners get a hold of guns
They kill their jailer and grab the prison keys
They come running out of their cells and kill four guards in the courtyard

You said if you write me
Don’t type everything
Add a line in your own hand

Books
There are books that talk about the Panama Canal
I don’t know what the card catalogs say
And I don’t pay any attention to the financial pages

Christ
Here it’s been more than a year since I thought of You

Noon
Midnight
Shit is said in all the corners of the universe

There are books filled with nothing but descriptions of sunsets

Down in the valley you see that telegraph line whose rectilinear path cuts through the forest on the mountain across the way
All the poles are made of iron

The guillotine is the masterpiece of plastic art