It should be entered from the old quarter
At its center, the easiest part to get lost in.
—It happened to many of us here, as children:

Baseball is the purest sport, meaning
ballparks out in the heartland, mixing
fork balls and slurves, tapping

They return in desirable colors of the season,
whether casually or stupidly, to simplify the garden
of its sweetest shoots and tips, though I have set out

A millipede-thing the size of a Brahma bull is devouring
palm fronds that are longer than stretch limos.
He watches the multiplied sun along its segmented armor; then,

The sun goes, So long, so long, see you around.
And zone by zone by zone across America
the all-night coast-to-coast ghost café lights up.

My miracle cures left her of two minds. 
Pillowed in the bed, she would seem to be 
all acquiescence, even eagerness,

So bondage is a big part of it, after all—
that old art of rendering a lover submissive:
a tactic, a strategy. Denying somebody’s body

The record skips in the parlor
when the gurney wheels past.
Mother’s on her way to maternity.

When they knew what he had given them,
This florid colossus with the sunrise in his eyes
And skin the color of perfectly ripened fruit,

Each evening, the sins of the whole world collect here
      like a dew.
In the morning, little galaxies, they flash out