A day too large for the summer, standing up
out of the bus lanes, puzzled on its face
like the miniaturist who becomes famous

The near past and the near future are poor,
with no accession of hands, no bright legs—
useless, untender absences with bronze torsos.

At dawn, in that uncertain time,
As restless as the earth to bear
The new late rain, I walk knee-deep 

Sinking my teeth deep into you,
I feel no guilt.
You knew I was coming.

These are the problems which inhabit the imagination
Tincture of opium, redolent eucalyptus balm
The constituent order fails

"Nothing he had done before
   or would try for later"
         will explain or atone

This morning, flakes of sun
peel down to the last snowholds,
the barbed-wire leavings of a war

If your name is on the list of judges
you're one of them
though you fought their hardening

Burnt by lightning    nevertheless
she’ll walk this terra infinita

lashes singed on her third eye 

All in the day that I was born,
I walked across the shouting corn,
I saw the sunlight flash and hail