her eyes and smile are elsewhere:
swelling out and sailing to the future

   I have gone on, to still another one, a young

 french girl she is this time, my wife did not bear my child

and I knew it.

Even in the rain the wall
is a molecule of me?

Red-faced and romping in the wind
I too am reading the technical journals, but
Keeping Christmas-safe each city block

and I am lost in the ringing elevator
sweeping me to the top

Plunging donkey          puberty devi 
       flings her thighs, swinging long 
   legs backward on her mount 

the Sea—turn yr Back on 
the Sea, go inland, to 
Dogtown: the Harbor 

Removing my watch, pleased with the morning weather, 
I dove—I would cross the Atlantic by myself Neither she, 
        Nor I, nor Brooklyn minded. 

In the evening
haze darkening on the hills,
purple

Time comes spirit weakens and goes blank apartments shuffled through and forgotten
The dead in their cenotaphs locomotive high schools & African cities small town motorcycle graves