where a man puts a poem inside his head. forever verse. not curse. or its only become to sage. as love never die nor lie. it always become . if you are sick it does so. if it dream. it is your so. if it wheat it is your corn. not corn but seed to spade ups the sapling to its high freed throng. becomed to every which way. of love's make.
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wher e did tha t go ? where did it go? where did that body go where did that , wisp, love, go? in snow? half-cut rhyme slacked by the running section of tuba-trombone? was that her hair, in the wind, on a night bus, parking near the back of a cabin, a language, gift, to her eyes, tongue, the air of its salt taste, the rare reckoning of love, her, her s .
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wher e did tha t go ? where did it go? where did that body go where did that , wisp, love, go? in snow? half-cut rhyme slacked by the running section of tuba-trombone? was that her hair, in the wind, on a night bus, parking near the back of a cabin, a language, gift, to her eyes, tongue, the air of its salt taste, the rare reckoning of love, her, her s .
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lover to its heartspin past nightyour armsgonethe city of lightpassedParis then Dublinback to London lost wayside walkeryou were I was wayfarerSeeing your eyesyour hands gripping as before they gropedso night spelled endingas these rains fell swordwardthis word sees your nameyour bodyback to Parisreturn to MontrealSo calls night's hornto me to your body
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