A summer morning rises up without
The sound of wheat in open fields. Noon.
A fresh front-end of clear minutes. Then the
Placid sun unwraps a clean whole cloth
Of fresh buds around my head--books to crowded
Stables--sun lifts off of fixed curtains or
Doorways and in the middle of a boulevard
The horse dries out, calmly stands.
Now close the curtain.

*

Evening goes to concision of loud fresh
Sounds of winds to the untrodden field with
None of the clean hands letting up from late
Tea, sits without the same realities
That down-time quits--forget the feet
Hovering immaculate windows
Looking out of unfurnished houses.

*

I caught nakedness--the ground--I quit my
Front, impatient I woke up, didn't pay
Attention to the morning concealing
A few gorgeous solidities from which
My body was made up, shined solidly
Away from the floor when the podunk town
Went away the darkness sunk down around
The window--I saw the egrets come out
Of the aqueduct, I sighted the building
As the stream completely realized standing
Beside the middle of the floor where the
Circles unfurled--my eyes let go the palms
Let go the soles.

*

My body sagged loose around the ground
Brighten up in front of a country square
Grow up from lax hands at 8, 10, 12 feet
Long round toes unpacking cigars morning
Magazines or mouth unsure, the curtain
The inconsequential whitened field
Patient to let go of the universe.

*

He is unmoved by spartan things straight
Between those realities, and let go
The absence of thought of all limited harsh
Limited resting nothing. Don't rub your
Foot around the floor, cry, the universe
Stops going, a new man distributing
Ice in crowded fields.