Where you are now
Passing colors through your heart

You’re holding a bubble in your hands
It reflects everything as it grows

I had just read Pound again and I was thinking
of his brain floating by me in the universe

I am trying a dozen fruits and flowers
to get one sound

I could love the pine tree,
and the road going back and forth like a blue thread,

I slept sometimes for thirty or forty minutes
while the violins shrieked and the cellos trembled.

Somehow, the two of us sit in a café
bordering the park. Its grass succumbs
again to chronic green, and I see,

two rich poets
going over the past a little,
changing a thing or two

It’s a little later. And very dark and quiet now.
A few scattered lights penetrate the empty distance.

City emptiness terrifies—even without the stars.
I mean —the blankness—and silence—have force: gravity.

Later we began to learn to live
At the mouth of this well of the pure desire
For an end of wanting, the descent into the sun.