This is the key to misery
It opens its miserable door
Attendants glum & gloom greet you half way

Where I begin is no beginning; 
Except I shall make one tomorrow, 
Fire myself out north and west, 

At one time, under this same title,
I told the whole story of the kidnapped girl
and her Mexican tortures.

In 1936 it was a hot spring in
Cincinnati
We were in English class and the

From the sea came a hand,
ignorant as a penny,
troubled with the salt of its mother,

For so many years, Clive Barnes, 
I thought your name was Olive. 
All the things I was reading in books 

Up in the mountains, deep gorges had split the rock into sharp knives. A whole civilization lived up there, where the sky was so blue it seemed to exist in depth for ever. Their cities (and I was never able to discover if, in fact, they had any) could not be seen. 

Perhaps the earth is floating,
I do not know.
Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups

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

Open yourself up: today
that's no different than opening
a refrigerator door: large chunks