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“... Shame Stack Shame requires the eyes of others unlike guilt. Eyes of Elijah the Tishbite saw in Jezebel a person with much to be ashamed of. There is a link between shame and mercy people who lack the one lack the other. Psychoanalysts say shame ruins your capacity for reverie by making cracks in the mind where it is dangerous for thought to wander. In the end Jezebel’s own eunuchs throw her off the parapet ...”

“... I want everything. Everything is a naked thought that strikes. A foghorn sounding through fog makes the fog seem to be everything. Quail eggs eaten from the hand in fog make everything aphrodisiac. My husband shrugs when I say so, my husband shrugs at everything. The lakes where his factory has poisoned everything are as beautiful as Brueghel. I keep my shop, in order that I may sell everything there, empty but I leave the light on ...”

“... enter Norma Jeane as Mr Truman Capote]Norma Jeane:                           Enter chorus.                           I am my own chorus.                           I think of my chorus as Mr Truman Capote.                           He was a good friend, he told me the truth.                           You’ll never admit it when you’ve made a mess,                           he said to me once                           and that was true ...”

“... Burners medieval dark mud on a road a dark morning, falling back through memories a faint pain, dark uphill way the usual alone and gravel picking my step out where nothing, out hoping, hope sinking, slope rising, that dark colour, almost rain, a thing impending, how to get home the perfect lamplight from which out where nothing though I can almost taste it oh yes today, if today is your example today I could get back the cold slope just a foil the drear rain almost Brontë but one day no, one day that dark mud is the whole rigging the entire arrangement every north south sideways song pleading past the end of the soundtrack and then we’ll see and then we’ll spend, then we’ll be the burners Go snow woke me, light soaking out of snow straying up from lawns hedges caves coves pawing in through blinds through eyelids like a strain on the night, the night could not bear this strain I am here in my white shell I said Here I am I went out to help the night, no that’s not how it was go again, go nightingale, sometimes starting up from sleep lost from you is all one piece with the night itself that thing desolate stretched roving in it as if childhood came back deep in tides or a dream of a face turned away ...”

“... for RC 1. Huron River We walked by the river its arms all gold in winter sun like tin. Workshops of afternoon hummed along elsewhere. We noted ice at the shore and ice on plants and ice from the light fixtures under the railway bridge exploding – Squid, you said. Time toppled past us. There were no trains, no sunset. Geese lapped at an edge, eyes inward on their sunk city ...”

“... Gods do not fall, falling is human. Fall at the start, from between the knees of your mother to the ground. Fall again at the end. Gods, no. Even when new they didn’t lose their balance. They never will now. Even in battle they glare and fuss and stumble, receive light wounds, but don’t hit the ground. Have very little to do with the ground. Traverse it faster than thought ...”

“... What did he want from me. I visit old Europe. I fail at purity. I do not find Marietta. I didn’t really look for Marietta. I wouldn’t know how to recognise the woman. Atrocity tourism offers the poet many an opportunity to get pure. Before leaving for Krakow I got a call to visit Lezek. Now you have seen her perhaps you will be inspired. Turning to the camera ...”

“... SCENE: Sunday. England. Country road. CAST: deer Jimi Hendrix limo driver [Enter deer from woods on right. Stops, stands still on road] DEER: Heart is wild muscle Hum [Limo with JH in back approaches on road. JH on cell phone] JH: So. Dad. I’m in England. LD: Look we got a deer. JH: What? LD: There. JH: Just standing. LD: They do that. DEER: Thin to the leap goes exactly what tired you up what bracken breaking Hum to keep on Hum LD: Young one ...”

“... for Wally and Deborah and Larry and André Go to the Wally Shawn play, it is hopeless, I mean production impeccable, philosophy hopeless. Yet it gives me hope! Figure this out. Next day listening to Sam Cooke what comes to me in a dawn café is: no need to fear death. There will be a tunnel and light. Order a tofu burrito. C. comes in looking lively ...”

“... Swimming in Circles in Copenhagen A Sonnet Sequence The palace guards, the palace guards telephoned to ask for shards. I sent out the hard dogs. Dark swallow. It is no simple red, he said. Each thread spun from a different reason for marrying. Dark swallow. This sparkle of anyone, all too soon. All too, all too soon flaming. Dark swallow. Claiming to have no word for ‘desire’, you brimming burning glukupikros liar, you candybitter being ...”

“... I was waiting for you to get to work ‘A True Account of Talking to the Sun at Fire Island’ Frank O’Hara 1 You know the second person in the history of the world the Sun chose to speak to personally was Frank O’Hara, the first was Orpheus [me]. You are my Sweetheart said the Sun. He was sitting on the hood of his truck. Somehow it was menacing ...”

“... ZEUS PAUSES AMID WRITING HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY] How everyone thinks him a happy-go-lucky guy. True and not true, don’t give the ending away. Rhyme angst with spanks? Bit of a buzz on the old loins yet. [ZEUS DECIDES TO DO HIS OWN TAXES THIS YEAR] Deduct the corpse of Helen from the corpse of war (net). ‘Victory’ (adjusted gross). ‘Virtue’ (attach schedule E ...”

“... Merce Sonnet Narrative some dance is.    Other not.    Two opposite places to start  Telling stories:    Graham, Martha.    Take a name. Play a part.     Fame, on the other hand,    Cunningham, Merce    got, a lot,    by making the place     of the proper noun    empty but hot ...”

“... Short Talk on TodtnaubergCelan came up the mountain to visit the philosopher. He came on a wooden cart and was surrounded by a snowstorm. He felt ashamed. Shame is unreasonable. The philosopher was unashamed. He kept whistling. Snow was blinding them both. In the Hütte (hut, cabin, refuge, shelter, small house built of readily available materials) there was only one chair, a hard chair ...”