The chopping of the chocolate, the zesting of the orange,
the scalding of the milk,
the pouring of the cream, the folding-in,

Vienna revolts outside; in,
an addict is bent
over everything ever written on dreams

Freud liked to collapse distinctions:
masochism is the continuation
of sadism (“nothing but”), in which

Close up, much too, ivory’s surface like most
surfaces is nothing smooth. To the touch
in all particulars it’s what the fresh

Slapped by saplings, hampered by roots,
our shovels went like spoons into
mouths that opened wider as we worked.