Collected Poems

TO HARVEY, WHO TRACED THE CIRCULATION

TO HARVEY, WHO TRACED THE CIRCULATION Who is that blue Dark, dreamer dreaming Of me? One afternoon I lonely found Home when a lonely Girl slipped her quick Shelter down. I love her, she is brave, she knew the moon was blooming Under the horizon. She said, give me my own lonely Heart, so I can hear my heart Beat in my left wrist. I kissed her long Left wrist. Long ago the poor lonely Brontosaurus lay down, face down, in his own Place, death, ferns Covered his face, secret Body of the most delicate Oil, the secret of steel, The living creature who long ago smoothed My bones into my love's lazily Giving bones. Harvey, There is nothing between us But the strumming of my pulse yearning Toward the sea. We Are both blue. Has any eye seen the body's eye gazing down in a daze below The right wrist? The blood is blue, there. NEW POEMS 203 I walked once headlong into the water, longing Or risking, if you want to risk the road, The word road. Just at the moment the moon Sank into Junk, my love rose, I rose, and The moon rose. I tremble along the river. I love breasts, But I love most one soft Wing of the vein. KATY DID i. I was a good child, So I am A good man. Put that In your pipe. Something fell down between Me and me, One afternoon, Long ago. Uncle Shorty came home to live living in our house. The man next door, laboring twelve hours A day, came home. Terrified white, he hated niggers, And his human face, frightened with smoke, Glared delighted in his pain through the open place In the fence, the open place Where I crept, sometimes, Afraid of both. 204 ...