The silence tugs at my breast With formless lips, Like a heavy baby, Attenuates me, Draws me through myself into it.
I sit in the womb of an idiot, Helpless before its mouthing tenderness.
The huge flap ears are attentive, And the soundless face bends toward me In horrible lovingness.
BIBLE TRUTH
To die...
Oh, cool river!
To float there with nothing to resist--
One ripple of silence spreads out from another.
My spirit widens so, Circle beyond circle.
I hold up the stars no longer with the pupils of my eyes.
Hands, legs, arms float off from me.
I melt like flakes of snow.
I am no more opposed.
I am no more.
THE MATERNAL BREAST
I walked straight and long, But I never found you.
I was looking for a hill of a hundred b.r.e.a.s.t.s, A hill modeled after the statues of Diana of the Ephesians.
I was looking for a hill of mounds hairy with gra.s.s, And a place to lie down.
AIR FOR G STRING
White hands of G.o.d With fingers like strong twigs flowering Rock me in leaves of iron, Leaves of blue.
Hands of G.o.d Fashioned of clouds Have finger tips that balance the almond white moon.
The pale sky is a flower White tipped and pink tipped with dawn.
White hands of G.o.d gather the blossoms with fingers that hold me, Cloud fingers like milk in the azure night, Weaving strong chords.
DESTINY
I am lost in the vast cave of night.
No sound but the far-off tinkle of stars, And the cry of a bird m.u.f.fled in shadows.
The light flows in remotely Through the hollow moon, Dim strange brilliance From waters beyond the sky.
Groping, I listen to the harsh tinkle of the far-off stars, Feel the clammy shadows about my shoulders.
THE RED CROSS
HECTIC
I
Ruby winged pains flash through me, Jewel winged agonies: They vanish, Carrying me with them Without my knowing it.
II
Pain sends out long tentacles And sucks.
When I have given up struggling He takes me into his arms.
ISOLATION WARD
We are the separate centers of consciousness Of all the universes.
We vibrate statically on a trillion golden wires.
Our trillion golden fingers twine in the weltering darkness, And grasp tremblingly, Aware in agony Of the things we can never know.
THE RED CROSS
Antiseptic smells that corrode the nostrils Crumble me, Eat me deep; And my garments disintegrate: First my nightgown, Leaving my naked arms and legs disjointed, Sprawled about the bed in postures meaningless to the point of obscenity.
My b.r.e.a.s.t.s shrivel, The nipples drawn like withered plums To the eyes of the bright young nurse.
I am nothing but a dull eye myself, An eye out of a socket, Bursting, Contorted with hideous wisdom.
Eye to eye We fight in the death throes, Myself and the young nurse.
Her firm, crisp ap.r.o.ned bosom Leans toward the bed, As she smooths the rumpled pillow back With long cool fingers.
HOSPITAL NIGHT
I am Will-o"-the-Wisp.
I float in a little pool of delirium, Phosph.o.r.escent velvet.
My fire is like a breath That blows my illness in circles, Widening it so far That I cannot see the edge.
It is one with the night sky.
My fire has blown this vastness, But I strain and flicker trying to escape from it.
I want to exist without the darkness That makes my breath so bright.
I want the morning to thin my light.
DOMESTIC CANTICLE
SPRING SONG
Sap crashes suddenly through dead roots: Sap that bites, Harsh, Impatient, Bitter as gold.
My G.o.d, my sisters, how dark, how silent, how heavy is earth!
Shoulders strain against this eternity, Against the trickling loam.
Earth dropped on the heart like a nerveless hand: On the red mouth Earth coils, Heavy as a serpent.
Light has come back to the darkness, To the shadow, To the coolness of blackened leaves.
HOME AGAIN
Where I used to be I could hear the sea.
The black ragged palm fronds flung themselves against the twilight sky.
The moon stared up from the water like a fish"s eye.
I had the loneliness that sings.
It made me light and gave me wings.
Is it the dust and the iron railings and the blank red brick That makes me sick?