2 PoemsThe Idea of Theory
What fear did your smear
Indent? Whose tacit approval
Was it, important as a rock
That lands on the landingAnd opens, red white purple
And violet? What star was
Your education the life,
The ink-smell, false drama?They have closed off this
Street and tilled it.
Tulips grow along it,
And haricots, and corn.
Research Into JulyA barrel rolls on the roof
A helicopter going by
Workmen play the green actor
By their uncle in a pantryThe spine is my handhold
And bruise the visible clime
A thermostat is an example
Of research into JulyIf I sleep without you
Do I sleep alone
If I shoot a visionary
The air conditioner goes on