In the story of Patroclus
no one survives, not even Achilles
who was nearly a god.
Patroclus resembled him; they wore
...
Requiring something lovely on his arm
Took me to Stamford, Connecticut, a quasi-farm,
His family's; later picking up the mammoth
Girlfriend of Charlie, meanwhile trying to pawn me off
...
What can I tell you that you don't know
that will make you tremble again?
Forsythia
...
Little soul, little perpetually undressed one,
Do now as I bid you, climb
The shelf-like branches of the spruce tree;
Wait at the top, attentive, like
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My mother's playing cards with my aunt,
Spite and Malice, the family pastime, the game
my grandmother taught all her daughters.
...
There was an apple tree in the yard --
this would have been
forty years ago -- behind,
only meadows. Drifts
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A dove lived in a village.
When it opened its mouth
sweetness came out, sound
like a silver light around
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Now, in twilight, on the palace steps
the king asks forgiveness of his lady.
He is not
...
Don't listen to me; my heart's been broken.
I don't see anything objectively.
I know myself; I've learned to hear like a psychiatrist.
...