Hear their voices as they scamper through
A backlit meadow, unaware of me.

Unfair—indecent—that your body would
Display, where everyone could see,
The name of someone whom you didn’t love.

Four draped muses emerged to the coordinates
from a swirling curtain of acanthus leaves.

There is no longer just the knife, a bundle
                of sticks, and a pot with fire.

I wake up in the kitchen, lying on a wooden bench,
   with you and the waiter staring at me .

What is a nose? Obviously not simply a smeller, sniffer,
or a mere searcher-out of olfactory sensation,

He dyed the air with dripping joints of beef,
chewed up blueprints and spilled out designs
for warehouses, trains, jails, wasting the night

We circle her flaking house, rehearsing our bleak
themes (the life or the work, marriage or betrayal).

Give it up, said the moon, and I curled
around the hunger.

But if my belly were the whole
sky, would I wake at night to rise like this,
cumbersome as the moon?