Poem to Henry Miller
Take a hint. These men are not kidding.
In this democracy no one can buy
Up the town. Hide your joy, Happy Rock,
Like a stash of jewels.

No one likes a man who gets drunk on water.

 

To Barbara
Hag-bound even then, you gobbled up
my unlived life without words.
I fed you the best parts of me.
“Wrong!” cried my friends, bound to succeed.

In this late wisdom it is your eyes
I respect, and a mouth which taught me
a fear of curves. Regretfully,
no one has been as right as you.

Who ate whom? I gorged on sorrow,
grew round and wise, holding back,
while you became an early wife,
boxed up, and perhaps dumb.

Twice the age of that fine frenzy
I think of you still stinking with life.
This is simple. Your eyes burning
on stairways. I ask for nothing less.