Fever and ooze, fever and ooze: 
Pronoun by pronoun, verb by irregular verb, 
Winter grows great with spring: March: 

Lured by the wall, and drawn
To stare below the roof,
Where pigeons nest aloof

Power rigs drift like lights out past the breakwater,
                                               white, and fluorescent white.
The sea moving them up and down

 One of these days, if I can get up the nerve, I think I’ll cut
off a piece of my own head and eat it.

June is a migraine above the eyes,
Strict auras and yellow blots,
                                                green screen and tunnel vision,

 I love the egg.
  I even love my poor, thick, mysterious skull.

Piece by small piece the world falls away from us like spores
From a milkweed pod,

Friday arrives with all its attendant ecstasies.
Mirrors bloom in the hushed beds.

The ocotillo begins to publish its orange tongues