One evening, after the sun (and not only the sun) had gone down in the west, the Jew went for a walk, that is to say he stepped out of his hut and went for a walk, the Jew, the son of a Jew, and his name went with him, his unspeakable name, as he walked and went on and went shuffling along

Still gripped by the illusion of an horizon;
overcome with the finality of a broken tooth;
suspecting that habits are the only salvation,

This movie deals with the epidemic of the way we live now. 
What an inane card player. And the age may support it. 
Each time the rumble of the age 

It’s Saturday afternoon at the edge of the world.
White pages lift in the wind and fall.
Dust threads, cut loose from the heart, float up and fall.

Reading this, you are waiting for the curtain
        To go up on a glade, vistaed valley
Or colonnade of lath. Yet you are not here

January 29th

Black-white-black the flock of scaup
pushing hard against whittles of the tide.

Some blossoms are so white and luscious, when they
hold their long thin hands up you strip them for love
and scatter them on the ground as you walk;

We grappled that bird quiet between us
carefully holding its wings folded
and by whispers trying to calm the wild

The houses look at one another,
a language of windows.
The violin stands above the collar. . .

I fell with my father through space
In a space module as round
                  as your thumb