arching out of the fiat black sheen
of coffee table,
the six inch crystal dolphin:

The devil, for one, is a philanthropist. 
He gave so much 
God told him to put on mittens.

This showroom is now open. 
You will see the most complete collection 
of debris fashioned into the necessary shapes. 

It clings like a sheath-dress, 
this synthetic softness 
all of us wear in the office.

I can see the hooked noses of the owls 
And this is how it always begins. In 
The darkness, everything looking

At the center of the city I come upon a hill, at the top of which is a very large bird. I see it resembles an eagle. Though it’s about 14 stories high, it’s as docile as a rabbit. Its foot, I see, is tied to a stout nearby building. The rope used for this purpose is thick, the knot alone having the bulk of a cottage, or a pleasant bungalow. 

This roller coaster was condemned 
in 1925. You remember that, how the shingly 
underpinnings creak as the cars go clacking 

After the rabbits and doves 
and the sawed-in-two lady, 
slowly unscrew your arms 

The fête confused me. Guests played the part of gods.
There was a woman with white skin who stood
with her pale green robe open all night throwing roses.

Gutters are swept clean
by the smiles
of evening sharks.