It was important on this April night
to open the windows, all of them, east
and on the west, pushing the panes

I descend on Holborn's escalator
watching my wives pass by on the opposite side,
smiling, waving at me; they shout in Swedish,

At the next table
a woman in patent shoes,
blue summer shift

This pair of pants has four pockets.
It can be seen how lovely they all are
carrying their duty-free cargo and passing

Under the weather would put one
just about left of the cirrus and right of
the objective correlative,

Dürer’s fame meant he could sometimes pay with
his own woodcut prints and chalk drawings. 
This time, however, borax was partial payment for

First, pick up chicken, rock back
& forth, back & forth, then set down.
He will stand where you put him four

In my arms, lilacs like a former lover—
no heartbeat, no elevator.
The garden pantomimes its tactics. Now

The truth is none of our business.
Our adolescent eye-at-the-keyhole rooting
In a sweetheart’s soiled linen for a clue

Maybe the moon is made of ice, not cheese,
And that's why it's so frightening.

Though on a warm night,