They were poor then but everyone was poor.
He hadn’t minded the sweeping,
just the thought of it

On the radio a canary bewailed her luck
while the county outside was kicking with rain.

see my daughter’s curved hocks and
haunches, her hips that behind my back have
swelled until they taper delicious 

naked and noiseless, and when I looked at her
she looked at me so directly,

At the end of two months’ holiday there came a night
When I lay awake and the seas’ distant fretless scansion
By imagination scourged rose to a fight

And here I am wondering about a simple hesitation in  your ankles,
an unruly lock, a cracked note.
I explore your landscapes—estranged bride,

are all we have. So count them as they pass. They pass 
too quickly 
out of breath. Don’t dwell on the grave which yawns for  

You would stand under a sign saying I Like To Be Touched and Held and when someone came and stood under the sign saying I Like To Touch and Hold they would send the two of you off together.

Afternoon’s hundreds under the Citicorp on the platform-
feverish underworld over the molten core of the world.

Sheen on your hair on the back of your book
jacket. Intellect’s steel, perhaps I said.
My friend and teacher until we did not talk,