Cockney tears, red, white
and blue tears, touching-
only-to-his-mother-tears.

It is time that the stone let itself break into flower,
that the unresting heart beat.

Into the distance, the stacked-up whiteness
and beyond, endless,
the sleightrace of the lost.

Two thousand pounds of Grade A carne vaporize
the heat. He has the biggest pecker in the pool

And all around the cadaver stood a living halo of fifteen
      quail

Confused bear cocked back on a haunch,
artist’s blundering arms frozen toward embrace 

who glimpses
the dead without shuddering?

But when I rap harder, that hysterical feint—the flip
to her back, eyes slammed shut, skinny
tongue lolling in the snow.

If we are going to mean in so many ways 
let them all be lopped off. 

The beach is a balance oscillating
in the sunlight, it is a see-saw
  our town gleams on.