Poems Read online

andmadeithomelierthanitwas.

  “Whydidyoubringmeheretoseeit?

  Atempleofcratesincrampedandcratedscenery,

  whatcanitprove?

  Iamtiredofbreathingthiserodedair,

  thisdrynessinwhichthemonumentiscracking.”

  Itisanartifact

  ofwood.Woodholdstogetherbetter

  thanseaorcloudorsandcouldbyitself,

  muchbetterthanrealseaorsandorcloud.

  Itchosethatwaytogrowandnottomove.

  Themonument’sanobject,yetthosedecorations,

  carelesslynailed,lookinglikenothingatall,

  giveitawayashavinglife,andwishing;

  wantingtobeamonument,tocherishsomething.

  Thecrudestscroll-worksays“commemorate,”

  whileonceeachdaythelightgoesaroundit

  likeaprowlinganimal,

  ortherainfallsonit,orthewindblowsintoit.

  Itmaybesolid,maybehollow.

  Thebonesoftheartist-princemaybeinside

  orfarawayonevendriersoil.

  Butroughlybutadequatelyitcanshelter

  whatiswithin(whichafterall

  cannothavebeenintendedtobeseen).

  Itisthebeginningofapainting,

  apieceofsculpture,orpoem,ormonument,

  andallofwood.Watchitclosely.

  Paris,7A.M.

  Imakeatriptoeachclockintheapartment:

  somehandspointhistrionicallyoneway

  andsomepointothers,fromtheignorantfaces.

  TimeisanEtoile;thehoursdiverge

  somuchthatdaysarejourneysroundthesuburbs,

  circlessurroundingstars,overlappingcircles.

  Theshort,half-tonescaleofwinterweathers

  isaspreadpigeon’swing.

  Winterlivesunderapigeon’swing,adeadwingwithdampfeathers.

  Lookdownintothecourtyard.Allthehouses

  arebuiltthatway,withornamentalurns

  setonthemansardroof-topswherethepigeons

  taketheirwalks.Itislikeintrospection

  tostareinside,orretrospection,

  astarinsidearectangle,arecollection:

  thishollowsquarecouldeasilyhavebeenthere.

  —Thechildishsnow-forts,builtinflashierwinters,

  couldhavereachedtheseproportionsandbeenhouses;

  themightysnow-forts,four,five,storieshigh,

  withstandingspringassand-fortsdothetide,

  theirwalls,theirshape,couldnotdissolveanddie,

  onlybeoverlappinginastrongchain,turnedtostone,

  andgrayedandyellowednowlikethese.

  Whereistheammunition,thepiled-upballs

  withthestar-splinteredheartsofice?

  Thisskyisnocarrier-warrior-pigeon

  escapingendlessintersectingcircles.

  Itisadeadone,ortheskyfromwhichadeadonefell.

  Theurnshavecaughthisashesorhisfeathers.

  Whendidthestardissolve,orwasitcaptured

  bythesequenceofsquaresandsquaresandcircles,circles?

  Cantheclockssay;isittherebelow,

  abouttotumbleinsnow?

  Quaid’Orléans

  forMargaretMiller

  Eachbargeontherivereasilytows

  amightywake,

  agiantoak-leafofgraylights

  ondullergray;

  andbehinditrealleavesarefloatingby,

  downtothesea.

  Mercury-veinsonthegiantleaves,

  theripples,make

  forthesidesofthequai,toextinguishthemselves

  againstthewalls

  assoftlyasfalling-starscometotheirends

  atapointinthesky.

  Andthrongsofsmallleaves,realleaves,trailingthem,

  godriftingby

  todisappearasmodestly,downthesea’s

  dissolvinghalls.

  Westandasstillasstonestowatch

  theleavesandripples

  whilelightandnervouswaterhold

  theirinterview.

  “Ifwhatweseecouldforgetushalfaseasily,”

  Iwanttotellyou,

  “asitdoesitself—butforlifewe’llnotberid

  oftheleaves’fossils.”

  SleepingontheCeiling

  Itissopeacefulontheceiling!

  ItisthePlacedelaConcorde.

  Thelittlecrystalchandelier

  isoff,thefountainisinthedark.

  Notasoulisinthepark.

  Below,wherethewallpaperispeeling,

  theJardindesPlanteshaslockeditsgates.

  Thosephotographsareanimals.

  Themightyflowersandfoliagerustle;

  undertheleavestheinsectstunnel.

  Wemustgounderthewallpaper

  tomeettheinsect-gladiator,

  tobattlewithanetandtrident,

  andleavethefountainandthesquare.

  Butoh,thatwecouldsleepupthere.…

  SleepingStandingUp

  Asweliedowntosleeptheworldturnshalfaway

  throughninetydarkdegrees;

  thebureauliesonthewall

  andthoughtsthatwererecumbentintheday

  riseastheothersfall,

  standupandmakeaforestofthick-settrees.

  Thearmoredcarsofdreams,contrivedtoletusdo

  somanyadangerousthing,

  arechuggingatitsedge

  allcamouflaged,andreadytogothrough

  theswifteststreams,orupaledge

  ofcrumblingshale,whileplatesandtrappingsring.

  —Throughturret-slitswesawthecrumbsorpebblesthatlay

  belowtherivetedflanks

  onthegreenforestfloor,

  likethosethecleverchildrenplacedbyday

  andfollowedtotheirdoor

  onenight,atleast;andintheuglytanks

  wetrackedthemallthenight.Sometimestheydisappeared,

  dissolvinginthemoss,

  sometimeswewenttoofast

  andgroundthemunderneath.Howstupidlywesteered

  untilthenightwaspast

  andneverfoundoutwherethecottagewas.

  Cirqued’Hiver

  Acrossthefloorflitsthemechanicaltoy,

  fitforakingofseveralcenturiesback.

  Alittlecircushorsewithrealwhitehair.

  Hiseyesareglossyblack.

  Hebearsalittledanceronhisback.

  Shestandsuponhertoesandturnsandturns.

  Aslantingsprayofartificialroses

  isstitchedacrossherskirtandtinselbodice.

  Aboveherheadsheposes

  anothersprayofartificialroses.

  HismaneandtailarestraightfromChirico.

  Hehasaformal,melancholysoul.

  Hefeelsherpinktoesdangletowardhisback

  alongthelittlepole

  thatpiercesbothherbodyandhersoul

  andgoesthroughhis,andreappearsbelow,

  underhisbelly,asabigtinkey.

  Hecantersthreesteps,thenhemakesabow,

  cantersagain,bowsononeknee,

  canters,thenclicksandstops,andlooksatme.

  Thedancer,bythistime,hasturnedherback.

  Heisthemoreintelligentbyfar.

  Facingeachotherratherdesperately—

  hiseyeislikeastar—

  westareandsay,“Well,wehavecomethisfar.”

  Florida

  Thestatewiththeprettiestname,

  thestatethatfloatsinbrackishwater,

  held
togetherbymangroveroots

  thatbearwhilelivingoystersinclusters,

  andwhendeadstrewwhiteswampswithskeletons,

  dottedasifbombarded,withgreenhummocks

  likeancientcannon-ballssproutinggrass.

  ThestatefulloflongS-shapedbirds,blueandwhite,

  andunseenhystericalbirdswhorushupthescale

  everytimeinatantrum.

  Tanagersembarrassedbytheirflashiness,

  andpelicanswhosedelightitistoclown;

  whocoastforfunonthestrongtidalcurrents

  inandoutamongthemangroveislands

  andstandonthesand-barsdryingtheirdampgoldwings

  onsun-litevenings.

  Enormousturtles,helplessandmild,

  dieandleavetheirbarnacledshellsonthebeaches,

  andtheirlargewhiteskullswithroundeye-sockets

  twicethesizeofaman’s.

  Thepalmtreesclatterinthestiffbreeze

  likethebillsofthepelicans.Thetropicalraincomesdown

  tofreshenthetide-loopedstringsoffadingshells:

  Job’sTear,theChineseAlphabet,thescarceJunonia,

  parti-coloredpectinsandLadies’Ears,

  arrangedasonagrayragofrottedcalico,

  theburiedIndianPrincess’sskirt;

  withthesethemonotonous,endless,saggingcoast-line

  isdelicatelyornamented.

  Thirtyormorebuzzardsaredriftingdown,down,down,

  oversomethingtheyhavespottedintheswamp,

  incircleslikestirred-upflakesofsediment

  sinkingthroughwater.

  Smokefromwoods-firesfiltersfinebluesolvents.

  Onstumpsanddeadtreesthecharringislikeblackvelvet.

  Themosquitoes

  gohuntingtothetuneoftheirferociousobbligatos.

  Afterdark,thefirefliesmaptheheavensinthemarsh

  untilthemoonrises.

  Coldwhite,notbright,themoonlightiscoarse-meshed,

  andthecareless,corruptstateisallblackspecks

  toofarapart,anduglywhites;thepoorest

  post-cardofitself.

  Afterdark,thepoolsseemtohaveslippedaway.

  Thealligator,whohasfivedistinctcalls:

  friendliness,love,mating,war,andawarning—

  whimpersandspeaksinthethroat

  oftheIndianPrincess.

  Jerónimo’sHouse

  Myhouse,myfairy

  andonthetable

  palace,is

  onefriedfish

  ofperishable

  spatteredwithburning

  clapboardswith

  scarletsauce,

  threeroomsinall,

  alittledish

  mygraywasps’nest

  ofhominygrits

  ofchewed-uppaper

  andfourpinktissue-

  gluedwithspit.

  paperroses.

  Myhome,mylove-nest,

  AlsoIhave

  isendowed

  hungonahook,

  withaveranda

  anoldFrenchhorn

  ofwoodenlace,

  repaintedwith

  adornedwithferns

  aluminumpaint.

  plantedinsponges,

  Iplayeachyear

  andthefrontroom

  intheparade

  withredandgreen

  forJoséMarti.

  left-overChristmas

  Atnightyou’dthink

  decorations

  myhouseabandoned.

  loopedfromthecorners

  Comecloser.You

  tothemiddle

  canseeandhear

  abovemylittle

  thewriting-paper

  centertable

  linesoflight

  ofwovenwicker

  andthevoicesof

  paintedblue,

  myradio

  andfourbluechairs

  singingflamencos

  andanaffair

  inbetween

  forthesmallestbaby

  thelotterynumbers.

  withatray

  WhenImove

  withtenbigbeads.

  Itakethesethings,

  Thenonthewalls

  notmuchmore,from

  twopalm-leaffans

  myshelterfrom

  andacalendar

  thehurricane.

  Roosters

  Atfouro’clock

  inthegun-metalbluedark

  wehearthefirstcrowofthefirstcock

  justbelow

  thegun-metalbluewindow

  andimmediatelythereisanecho

  offinthedistance,

  thenonefromthebackyardfence,

  thenone,withhorribleinsistence,

  grateslikeawetmatch

  fromthebroccolipatch,

  flares,andallovertownbeginstocatch.

  Criesgalore

  comefromthewater-closetdoor,

  fromthedropping-plasteredhenhousefloor,

  whereintheblueblur

  theirrustlingwivesadmire,

  theroostersbracetheircruelfeetandglare

  withstupideyes

  whilefromtheirbeaksthererise

  theuncontrolled,traditionalcries.

  Deepfromprotrudingchests

  ingreen-goldmedalsdressed,

  plannedtocommandandterrorizetherest,

  themanywives

  wholeadhens’lives

  ofbeingcourtedanddespised;

  deepfromrawthroats

  asenselessorderfloats

  allovertown.Aroostergloats

  overourbeds

  fromrustyironsheds

  andfencesmadefromoldbedsteads,

  overourchurches

  wherethetinroosterperches,

  overourlittlewoodennorthernhouses,

  makingsallies

  fromallthemuddyalleys,

  markingoutmapslikeRandMcNally’s:

  glass-headedpins,

  oil-goldsandcoppergreens,

  anthraciteblues,alizarins,

  eachoneanactive

  displacementinperspective;

  eachscreaming,“ThisiswhereIlive!”

  Eachscreaming

  “Getup!Stopdreaming!”

  Roosters,whatareyouprojecting?

  You,whomtheGreekselected

  toshootatonapost,whostruggled

  whensacrificed,youwhomtheylabeled

  “Verycombative…”

  whatrighthaveyoutogive

  commandsandtellushowtolive,

  cry“Here!”and“Here!”

  andwakeusherewhereare

  unwantedlove,conceitandwar?

  Thecrownofred

  setonyourlittlehead

  ischargedwithallyourfightingblood.

  Yes,thatexcrescence

  makesamostvirilepresence,

  plusallthatvulgarbeautyofiridescence.

  Nowinmid-air

  bytwostheyfighteachother.

  Downcomesafirstflame-feather,

  andoneisflying,

  withragingheroismdefying

  eventhesensationofdying.

  Andonehasfallen,

  butstillabovethetown

  historn-out,bloodiedfeathersdriftdown;

  andwhathesung

  nomatter.Heisflung

  onthegrayash-heap,liesindung

  withhisdeadwives

  withopen,bloodyeyes,

  whilethosemetallicfeathersoxidize.

  St.Peter’ssin

  wasworsethanthatofMagdalen


  whosesinwasofthefleshalone;

  ofspirit,Peter’s,

  falling,beneaththeflares,

  amongthe“servantsandofficers.”

  Oldholysculpture

  couldsetitalltogether

  inonesmallscene,pastandfuture:

  Christstandsamazed,

  Peter,twofingersraised

  tosurprisedlips,bothasifdazed.

  Butinbetween

  alittlecockisseen

  carvedonadimcolumninthetravertine

  explainedby galluscanit;

  fletPetrusunderneathit.

  Thereisinescapablehope,thepivot;

  yes,andtherePeter’stears

  rundownourchanticleer’s

  sidesandgemhisspurs.

  Tear-encrustedthick

  asamedievalrelic

  hewaits.PoorPeter,heart-sick,

  stillcannotguess

  thosecock-a-doodlesyetmightbless,

  hisdreadfulroostercometomeanforgiveness,

  anewweathervane

  onbasilicaandbarn,

  andthatoutsidetheLateran

  therewouldalwaysbe

  abronzecockonaporphyry

  pillarsothepeopleandthePopemightsee

  thateventhePrince

  oftheApostleslongsince

  hadbeenforgiven,andtoconvince

  alltheassembly

  that“Denydenydeny”

  isnotalltheroosterscry.

  Inthemorning

  alowlightisfloating

  inthebackyard,andgilding

  fromunderneath

  thebroccoli,leafbyleaf;

  howcouldthenighthavecometogrief?

  gildingthetiny

  floatingswallow’sbelly

  andlinesofpinkcloudinthesky,

  theday’spreamble

  likewanderinglinesinmarble.

  Thecocksarenowalmostinaudible.

  Thesunclimbsin,

  following“toseetheend,”

  faithfulasenemy,orfriend.

  Seascape

  Thiscelestialseascape,withwhiteheronsgotupasangels,

  flyingashighastheywantandasfarastheywantsidewise

  intiersandtiersofimmaculatereflections;

  thewholeregion,fromthehighestheron

  downtotheweightlessmangroveisland