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Some intenseLOVE
POEM HOME PAGE event
dictated a poem;
Poem and event had come closer together than ever before.
It was as if, in passing,
The event had pressed its own image against the page
And its shape had left a mark
The hand lay useless atop the desk. It smoked.
The pencil fell under the desk unsharpened and broken
And the moon rising over the intensely
intimate little room
where the exceptionally wild party had just been held
Pressed itself very hard against the windowpane
Behind which the groups of lovers had recently been assembled
An entire landscape of
possible future events of that kind
was illuminated back there, stretching even to the very rear of that
room
--A sparsely-furnished chamber with only deeply cushioned couches there,
and various mats and throw-rugs, plus pillows thrown all over the
floor
But nothing could be without the moon's being
The dust of events
was never shed on the paper except under the moonlight