A smile shrinks in the continual rains.
The cat stretches without opening his eyes. 
The searches for interest begin, centrifugal 

I hoped to find under my skin
A lump embodying that which
Powers my words invisibly—

Shall I roll the universe
into a ball?
Shall I roll you in between

  There’s been
 a lot of talk,

Remember too hot pride can cool as sweet,
More delicate and richer than deceit.

Near Belsen, after thirteen years,
Low clouds above the meadows shudder.
Below me mustard

Very old bodies always seem to be melting
like fetuses, or flaccid smelly large white lumps
of mozarella cheese. They are as shapeless

Now coming up on scherzo,
simulated situation based on big, big trouble.
Word good as broken-down bond,

        awaiting arrest
sky-high nonchalance
        walk on by (off orange girder)

Centennial of Melville’s birth this morning.
Whale balloons drift up released by priests.