A man says yes without knowing
how to decide even what the question is,
and is caught up, and then is carried along

Now this is it, said Death,
and as far as I could see
Death was looking at me.

I was fourteen years old,
brooding, a proud of it,
slim, lithe and frowning,

After the family surgeon has severed my hand and wrist from the forearm. 
And I have carefully washed the separated hand with the connected hand. 
And done its fingernails, and put a drop of perfume at the pulse of the wrist. 

goodbye to the sun 
my father 
who blessed me 

Yes these are mine

I carry them from shower to dreams

and sniff them in dark dawns

In the half-sun of long days
let us draw our tired bones together

let us forget the unfaithful ones

A man was able to get hold of all the laughter in the world, and he packed it tightly and locked it up in his house, and hid the key.

When they were big, they knew they must leave the barnyard
and make their way in the world:
the first little pig took her toothbrush and her mother's

Coffee wakes you from that sleep-bruised face,
fraggles your nerves
till they push you out into the day, into the twitch.