My Vocabulary Did This to Me: The Collected Poetry of Jack Spicer

“We find the body difficult to speak . . .”

“We find the body difficult to speak . . .” We find the body difficult to speak, The face too hard to hear through, We find that eyes in kissing stammer And that heaving groins Babble like idiots. Sex is an ache of mouth. The Squeak our bodies make When they rub mouths against each other Trying to talk. Like silent little children we embrace, Aching together. And love is emptiness of ear. As cure We put a face against our ear And listen to it as we would a shell, Soothed by its roar. We find the body difficult, and speak Across its wall like strangers. “They are selling the midnight papers . . .” Every street has alleys and within the alleys There are criminals and policemen. I said, “Tonight The moon is like a dead gangster.” I heard him giggle like a hound. “The moon,” He said, “is spooky. We should lie upon our backs And howl.” And so we walked, uneasy, wondering If there were justice anywhere Within this midnight city, Spicer: My Vocabulary Did This to Me page 22 22 ...