' buildings- tall ones (with concrete and steel) -
i can do that...
but poetry- a feet long (with words) -
that, i can try...'
o when my darling cried no bed
i took her to the streets
and laid her news and magazines
so she may wet no sheets
wrinkles were not worn once in this same day
when mind was yet at fall and seed was dormant
womb was a waiting church innocent and silent
there sow the good sex let code be given
as if the walls have eyes when you pass -by
they stand a-blazing 'hind the scarce o'light
as if my heart too mumbles the same sigh
with taps you take each ne'er less o'flight