It is a rugged island of much beauty.
I've just arrived,
rumpled in the harbor bar.

I am trying to imagine that I am someone else,
a grocer, an aerialist,
a young viola player who travels
around the country in a bus full of musicians,

No one knew her real name, but she appeared to be Greek.
She posed nude for painters, when she could find them.
She could slap hard enough to draw blood.

You came one day and
as usual in such matters
significance filled everything—

Now, as you board the airplane, is there latent
in its thorax—nestled near the spine—
some wiring awry, a hose not tightened?

The thing you want discovers you when you’re
washing a thigh, and the phenomenon’s
a shock—a sudden flood—a clang of bronze.

Like angels, we live many lives at once,
hovering over one with house plans, one unrequited,

I was a thumbnail sketch of the universe.

They took the host into their mouths,
Held it on their tongues, and washed it

Their flesh drifting off like ... like loose hay in strong wind.