Alice's favorite assorted poems

Velvet at the edge of the tongue,

at the edge of the brain, it was

velvet. At the edge of history.

Sound was light. Like tracing

ancient letters w/yr toe on the

floor of the ballroom.

They came & went, hotel guests

like the Great Gatsby.

And wondered at the music.

Sound was light.

jagged sweeps of discordant

Light. Aurora borealis over

some cemetery. A bark. A howl.

At the edge of history & there was

no time

shouts. trace circles

of breath. All futures. Time

was this light & sound

spilled out of it.

Flickered

& fell under blue windows. False dawn.

And too much wind.

We come round.

Make circles. Blank as a clock.

Spill velvet damage on the edge

Peace hidden from him

And his nation

Like a star

In occulation,

The poet left the lazar-house

Of the world, where his friends,

Bankrupt in spirit, were encamped,

And pursued his own ends.

Days he walked wandering

In Muir Woods, forgot

What he had learned of the world

That was all merd and rot,

And drew peace to him

From ferns, delicate shoots,

Flourishing weeds,

Herbs, hedges and grass roots,

And having attained self-peace,

Was under the illusion

That the world was in order

And the wicked no longer in collusion.

He picked the leaves of a laurel,

With a wreath crowned him,

And considered

The small hills around him.

Before this poet

Whose laureateship

Commanded nothing

But boughs that dip,

Weighed down by wind,

A figure appeared and said:

“Return to those who fear,

Yet know not what they dread.

“Take off the laurel

and go home again,

Save those who live

In the lazar-house of pain.

“And tell those friends

About whom you forgot

That only half the world

Is merd and rot.”

The figure fled.

And the poet stood

Alone, stunned

And shaken in the wood.

He turned to leave,

But turning thus,

Thought of that down-rolling rock

I remember, when the moon shines clear

How I’d whisper in my husband’s ear

Like a dentist saying “Open Wider”

“Don’t you want to be a good provider”

“dont you want to be the gracious host

In a lovely home of which you’re proud to boast?

When my girl friends come to call

We’ve got to have carpeting from wall to wall”

After the carpeting he fought and bled

Trapped in the jaws of the Davenport bed!

He screamed as he vanished up the vacuum spout.

In triple-sealed bags it spat him out.

We chased his skull across the Twin Peaks stones.

Maud’s pet chihuahuas ate the rest of his bones

Another gnawed ghost, another gone man,

Another mild husband in the garbage can

Served up colder than his marriage vows