voices to voices, lip to lip
i swear (to noone everyone)constitutes
undying; or whatever this and that petal confutes...
to exist being a peculiar form of sleep

what's beyond  logic happen beneath will;
nor can these moment be translated: i say
that even after April
by God there is no excuse for May

---bring forth your flowers and machinery: sculpture and prose
flowers guess and miss
machinery is the more accurate, yes
it delivers the goods, Heaven knows

(yet we are mindful though not as yet awake,
of ourselves which shout and cling, being
for a little while and which easily break
in spite of the best overseeing)

i mean that the blond absence of any program.
except last and always and first to live
makes unimportant what i and you believe;
nor for philosophy does this rose give a damn...

bring on your fireworks, which are a mixed
splendor of piston or pistil; very well
provided an instant may be fixed
so that it will not rub, like any other pastel.

(While you and i have lips and voices which
are for kissing and to sing with
who cares if some oneeyed son of a bitch
invents an instrument to measure Spring with?
home, james