my little grandmother knows no pain she believes that hunger—is food
[…]
That night I read The Revolt of the Masses not yet knowingthat at that same hour theyset houses on fire. They say,an old woman tossed in flames trying
I breathe the leaves of the basil It has news for me— For all my senses
Alec, I said you’d be around by stratagem or shift looking for a lift to the somewhere burial ground
Like wallabies we hurtle This way and that Unworried whether the world Be round or flat.
