552
This is the applied eye
this is the mouthful of receipt
filled with whisper and promise
loudly, loudly laughing love
murmuring lips
this is the horse of laughter
ride toward the voice of deeds
morning pulled through keyholes
and ridden into the eye
of another thick and watery day
553
So Shakespeare is a mirror
yellow eye and hidden beard
Like Napoleon, who died then reappeared
in a hall of wasted laughter
a reflection vacant
a nature skinless and paralyzed and
intent on asking
"who tells a joke
now that the loudest laugh is gone?"
554
Every day is a day
Every day is a day
that the days run out
like streamers twisting back in the wind
making immense history
making fake widows in Japanese costumes
with cuffs and umbrellas
to watch the fragments flow
to watch time being made
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