One moment the sky is its usual dark,
Dimensionless self, and the next, with a double burst—
Two spreading spheres of radiance, phosphor

Rectangularity controls the setting
Of tables, the organization of paint
On canvas, and the sport of ping-pong.

The vagaries of taste might swerve.
Suddenly, leaving you disaudienced.

These are those same trees you saw six months ago.
I’ve drawn them in a way that will explain
Not only their nature, but the nature of snow,

One only needs to give the ocean some thought and it becomes describable as a street of houses:

Expressing hope we might in time come back
To have our teeth pulled and enjoy the rack.

So all this talk, since Whistler,
about the primacy and purity of
Form is balderdash.

Generations on generations of German sound
Engineers have taken you at your word.
Here are the dials they use: Play, Record,

Half a summerhouse
half a pound of butter
half a child.

It was a perfectly
normal day.
We were agreeable