Carnival
The mask that burns like a violin, the mask
that sings only dead languages, that loves
the destruction of being put on. The mask . . .
The mask that burns like a violin, the mask
that sings only dead languages, that loves
the destruction of being put on. The mask . . .
Children under, say, ten, shouldn't know
that the universe is ever-expanding,
inexorably pushing into the vacuum, galaxies . . .
Once upon a time
I caught a little rhyme
. . .
Before you, I was living on an island
And all around the seas of that lonely coast
Cast up their imitation jewels, cast . . .
It seems like you could, but
you can’t go back and pull
the roots and runners and replant.
It’s all too deep for that. . . .
That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
. . .
I
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward, . . .
Trying to find my roost
one lidded, late afternoon,
the consolation of color . . .
When I was a child I knew red miners
dressed raggedly and wearing carbide lamps.
I saw them come down red hills to their camps . . .
It’s in the perilous boughs of the tree
out of blue sky the wind
sings loudest surrounding me. . . .