I keep a blue bottle.
Inside it an ear and a portrait.
When the night dominates

On the sand
a
lizard

In the half-sun of long days
let us draw our tired bones together

let us forget the unfaithful ones

Why such harsh machinery?
Why, to write down the stuff
and people of every day,

I went into the tool shops
in all innocence
to buy a simple hammer

I was fourteen years old,
brooding, a proud of it,
slim, lithe and frowning,

Grim, and surrendered to their purposes,
their tangibilities of pulp or stone,
the houses, chairs and tables rise again—

The gilt girl said, And when we got to bed,he starts in pawing.    And he never stops.And nothing happens.    Are you drunk?    or gay?

Supine in silence, circled by his breath,
he sleeps with her whose unlatched womb
becomes a bolted room—

The central divide of the body is invisible,
only hinted in the dip of the back
along the spine, or the primal hair