OCCUPANTThe sad mailbox of my extreme youth, what did it ever deliver? The only...
A CRITICPick up your socks. Clean the house once in a while. Go to the dentist. ...
HISTORIANPiles and piles of books, boxes of documents, photographs, bones, shreds of clothes...
YOU WHO KNOWI was just enough bigger that I could wrestle you into the clean straw of the mow...
GRIFFY LAKEI spread my smooth water like a lap and caught the trees' faces where they fell...
THE TEMPTATION
The tree was hollow and I
stepped inside. The good round enclosing
shut me in. I heard what
an oak hears in the damp halfdark I chose.
Skin grows in rings, eyes
bark over, voice becomes a windy
mutter. Sap like slow
dynamite finds the secret brain.
Lay at my feet the food or
ornament you think will call
me out. My joints are knobs
of years and will not move.