A lovely suburban colonial,
built in the 1950s
(that era of civil defense)
had a bomb shelter in the basement

If you're thinking of going to Syracuse,
   be modest and do not expect
the bronze warriors of Reggio

The Rector's picking something from his teeth
(lunch) when I ring his doorbell to inquire
if I might see the church. (He plays it with

They are there in every weather
in my imagination,
as they were in the mountain town

Hatless, in mocking whiteface, Carl Schurz stands,
tricked by the tempest out of blackest bronze.

His basalt Negroes limp along their frieze:
Bare chested, fetters broken, they take liberties

Bewildered now to be so unalike,
Who were for one another from the start
The kind of perfect double that we all

From The Deep-Souf:
                                   “Fer nigras doan-care none;
ah lern meh erleh, nevah trus’ a one.

The room is too small; viscous Diana
stands with her hair in lamp, tassels

shade her in halos like comic book

I'm sitting on a bench at One Hundred and Fifteenth
and Riverside Drive, with my books beside me,
early for my lesson in Chinese

Down the long curving walk you trudge to the street,
Stoop-shouldered in defeat, a cardboard suitcase
In each hand. Gerda, don’t leave! the child cries