Any tourist will tell you:
Envisioning is our medicine.
I, too, hope to see what I can’t see.

The store dick lays a hand on your shoulder
Three steps from the exit. He asks what’s 
In your pockets but it’s more like a statement

At the end of August the air is so clear and light
A body could levitate‚

Because we use the same words
Does not mean we have the same eyes.

Warm abstraction, glimmer and fruit
Of progress, hope and comfortable psychology
We forgive the promises of love, drugs and dieting

The train swayed past cropped fields,
Barking collies, abandoned gas works, cows.
Brown bungalows with little gardens

She didn't like him: long nose baits,
Voice patient yet overbearing (a voice
Meant for a world of women-as-children).
He'd expect a yielding kiss if not more.

To start with, it looked abstract
                                                 that first year from the balcony

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