OK, some new poems.
This is the poem that was on the handout from the Poetry Center.
I only got five or six of these, and they're pretty short.
"35 years before Christ"--
these-- I don't know what to say about these.
They're different from what I used to write,
I guess is all I can say.
"35 years before Christ, it may be
the actual labor of actual sleep,
the actual spirit working.
A dozen miles, thought Horus, out of Rome, all magnificence
behind us, as if he knew.
Portland, 1968-- rain in the civic auditorium,
Linda and Sandra, girls like herons leg,
shopping among the civilians, her grief strong brow,
armpit's silver embellishment, maybe the actual spirit
reworking the actual effacement."