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How about an oak leaf if you had to be a leaf? Suppose you had your life to live over knowing what you know? Suppose you had plenty money "Get away from me you little fool." Evening of a day in early March, you are like the smell of drains in a restaurant where paté maison is a slab of cold meat loaf damp and wooly. You lack charm.
From Collected Poems by James Schuyler. Copyright © 1993 by James Schuyler. Used by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux . All rights reserved.
This beauty that I see —the sun going down scours the entangled and lightly henna withies and the wind whips them as it would ship a cloud— is passing so swiftly into night. A moon, full and flat, and stars a freight train passing passing it is the sea and not a train. This beauty that collects dry leaves in pools and pockets and goes freezingly, just able still to swiftly flow it goes, it goes.
Tags of songs, like salvaged buttons off vanished dresses, a date Thursday a week at eight, some guilt for a cab she not only could not afford but: pretty immoment matter greets Dorabella's mounting or are they subtracting moments. "Surely should be otherwise, should stop, be thought about, have other quality than surprise.
for Trevor Winkfield
December 26, 1970
The wind tears up the sun
and scatters it in snow.
The sky smiles and out
of its mouth drifts free
a milk tooth which of itself
glides under the pillow
of a cloud. The Tooth Fairy
knows where to look and when