LAST SUPPER

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1. The Crossed Apple I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard, Of wide report. I have trees there that bear me many apples. Of every sort: Clear, streaked; red and russet; green and golden; Sour and sweet. This apple’s from a tree yet unbeholden, Where two kinds meet,- So that this side is red without a […]...
2. 331. Epigram at Brownhill Inn AT 1 Brownhill we always get dainty good cheer, And plenty of bacon each day in the year; We’ve a’ thing that’s nice, and mostly in season, But why always Bacon-come, tell me a reason? Note 1. Bacon was the name of a presumably intrusive host. The lines are said to have “afforded much amusement.”-Lang. […]...
3. Nevertheless you’ve seen a strawberry That’s had a struggle; yet Was, where the fragments met, A hedgehog or a star- Fish for the multitude Of seeds. What better food Than apple seeds – the fruit Within the fruit – locked in Like counter-curved twin Hazelnuts? Frost that kills The little rubber-plant – Leaves of kok-sagyyz-stalks, can’t […]...
4. The Last Supper Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips, And the mouth so mocking gay, A wanton you to the finger-tips, Who break men’s hearts in play; A thing of dust I have striven for, Honour and manhood given for, Headlong to ruin driven for, And this is the last, you say. . . . Drinking your wine […]...
5. The Last Supper They are assembled, astonished and disturbed Round him, who like a sage resolved his fate, And now leaves those to whom he most belonged, Leaving and passing by them like a stranger. The loneliness of old comes over him Which helped mature him for his deepest acts; Now will he once again walk through the […]...
6. Poetry For Supper ‘Listen, now, verse should be as natural As the small tuber that feeds on muck And grows slowly from obtuse soil To the white flower of immortal beauty.’ ‘Natural, hell! What was it Chaucer Said once about the long toil That goes like blood to the poem’s making? Leave it to nature and the verse […]...
7. My Orcha'd in Linden Lea ‘Ithin the woodlands, flow’ry gleaded, By the woak tree’s mossy moot, The sheenen grass-bleades, timber-sheaded, Now do quiver under voot; An’ birds do whissle over head, An’ water’s bubblen in its bed, An’ there vor me the apple tree Do lean down low in Linden Lea. When leaves that leately wer a-springen Now do feade […]...
8. Window I looked out the window at dawn and saw a young apple tree Translucent in brightness. And when I looked out at dawn once again, an apple tree laden with Fruit stood there. Many years had probably gone by but I remember nothing of what Happened in my sleep....
9. The Rose Family The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple’s a rose, And the pear is, and so’s The plum, I suppose. The dear only know What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose But were always a rose....
10. Bitterness Here in February, the fine Dark branches of the almond Begin to sprout tiny clusters Of leaves, sticky to the touch. Not far off, about the length Of my morning shadow, the grass Is littered with the petals Of the plum that less than A week ago blazed, a living Candle in the hand of […]...
11. Villeggiature My window, framed in pear-tree bloom, White-curtained shone, and softly lighted: So, by the pear-tree, to my room Your ghost last night climbed uninvited. Your solid self, long leagues away, Deep in dull books, had hardly missed me; And yet you found this Romeo’s way, And through the blossom climbed and kissed me. I watched […]...
12. Jerusalem and redcurrants my jerusalem My newfoundland Juicy as redcurrants With their sweet tang taste My desire My holy requirement Caught in a cleft of mountain Ever clambered towards My yearning My place of the blood-red fruit My want at the first sherd For the full-bosomed bowl My jerusalem My sinewy prayer Where dust and the dry rock […]...
13. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND My faithful friend, if you can see The fruit to grow up, or the tree; If you can see the colour come Into the blushing pear or plum; If you can see the water grow To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow; If you can see that drop of rain Lost in the wild […]...
14. Like A Flower In The Rain I cut the middle fingernail of the middle Finger Right hand Real short And I began rubbing along her cunt As she sat upright in bed Spreading lotion over her arms Face And breasts After bathing. Then she lit a cigarette: “don’t let this put you off,” An smoked and continued to rub The lotion […]...
15. The Argument Said Jock McBrown to Tam McSmith, “A little bet I’m game to take on, That I can scotch this Shakespeare myth And prove Will just a stoodge for Bacon.” Said Tam McSmith to Jock McBrown, “Ye gyke, I canna let ye rave on. See here, I put a shilling down: My betting’s on the Bard […]...
16. The Unlucky Apple ‘Twas the apple that in Eden Caused our father’s primal fall; And the Trojan War, remember ‘Twas an apple caused it all. So for weeks I’ve hesitated, You can guess the reason why, For I want to tell my darling She’s the apple of my eye....
17. Valentine Too high, too high to pluck My heart shall swing. A fruit no bee shall suck, No wasp shall sting. If on some night of cold It falls to ground In apple-leaves of gold I’ll wrap it round. And I shall seal it up With spice and salt, In a carven silver cup, In a […]...
18. At The Golden Pig Where once with lads I scoffed my beer The landlord’s lass I’ve wed. Now I am lord and master here; Thank God! the old man’s dead. I stand behind a blooming bar With belly like a tub, And pals say, seeing my cigar: ‘Bill’s wed a pub.’ I wonder now if I did well, My […]...
19. Mystery Now I am all One bowl of kisses, Such as the tall Slim votaresses Of Egypt filled For a God’s excesses. I lift to you My bowl of kisses, And through the temple’s Blue recesses Cry out to you In wild caresses. And to my lips’ Bright crimson rim The passion slips, And down my […]...
20. They Ask Each Other Where They Came From AM I the river your white birds fly over? Are you the green valley my silver channels roam? The two of us a bowl of blue sky day time and a bowl of red stars night time? Who picked you out of the first great whirl of nothings and threw you here?...
21. GAUGUIN IN THE SOUTH SEAS They have my own fear of the dark, Tupapau – spirits of the dead they call it; Returning late with oil I found fear of it Had spread my vabine naked on the bed. Manao-Taipapau means ‘she thinks of the spectre’ Or ‘the spectre is thinking of her’, either way She is afraid; I marvel […]...
22. THE BUYERS To an apple-woman’s stall Once some children nimbly ran; Longing much to purchase all, They with joyous haste began Snatching up the piles there raised, While with eager eyes they gazed On the rosy fruit so nice; But when they found out the price, Down they threw the whole they’d got, Just as if they […]...
23. The Lobster Here at the Super Duper, in a glass tank Supplied by a rill of cold fresh water Running down a glass washboard at one end And siphoned off at the other, and so Perpetually renewed, a herd of lobster Is made available to the customer Who may choose whichever one he wants To carry home […]...
24. Irony Always, sweetheart, Carry into your room the blossoming boughs of cherry, Almond and apple and pear diffuse with light, that very Soon strews itself on the floor; and keep the radiance of spring Fresh quivering; keep the sunny-swift March-days waiting In a little throng at your door, and admit the one who is plaiting Her […]...
25. More Than Myself Not that it was beautiful, But that, in the end, there was A certain sense of order there; Something worth learning In that narrow diary of my mind, In the commonplaces of the asylum Where the cracked mirror Or my own selfish death Outstared me. . . I tapped my own head; It was glass, […]...
26. Recuerdo WE were very tired, we were very merry­ We had gone back and forth all night on the ferry. It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable­ But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table, We lay on a hill-top underneath the moon; And the whistles kept blowing, and the […]...
27. The Sheep The Sheep adorns the landscape rural And is both singular and plural- It gives grammarians the creeps To hear one say, “A flock of sheeps.” The Sheep is gentle, meek and mild, And led in herds by man or child- Being less savage than the rabbit, Sheep are gregarious by habit. The Sheep grows wool […]...
28. After Apple-Picking My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn’t pick upon some bough. But I am done with apple-picking now. Essence of winter sleep is on the night, The scent of apples: I […]...
29. Dyspeptic Clerk I think I’ll buy a little field, Though scant am I of pelf, And hold the hope that it may yield A living for myself; For I have toiled ten thousand days With ledger and with pen, And I am sick of city ways And soured with city men. So I will plant my little […]...
30. Escape When foxes eat the last gold grape, And the last white antelope is killed, I shall stop fighting and escape Into a little house I’ll build. But first I’ll shrink to fairy size, With a whisper no one understands, Making blind moons of all your eyes, And muddy roads of all your hands. And you […]...
31. Yvonne Of Brittany In your mother’s apple-orchard, Just a year ago, last spring: Do you remember, Yvonne! The dear trees lavishing Rain of their starry blossoms To make you a coronet? Do you ever remember, Yvonne, As I remember yet? In your mother’s apple-orchard, When the world was left behind: You were shy, so shy, Yvonne! But your […]...
32. Forbidden Fruit all the forbidden fruit I ever Dreamt of or was taught to Resist and fear ripens and Blossoms under the palms of my Hands as they uncover and explore You and in the most secret Corners of my heart as it discovers And adores you the forbidden fruit Of forgiveness the forbidden fruit Of finally […]...
33. My Little March Girl Come to the pane, draw the curtain apart, There she is passing, the girl of my heart; See where she walks like a queen in the street, Weather-defying, calm, placid and sweet. Tripping along with impetuous grace, Joy of her life beaming out of her face, Tresses all truant-like, curl upon curl, Wind-blown and rosy, […]...
34. Poor Cock Robin My garden robin in the Spring Was rapturous with glee, And followed me with wistful wing From pear to apple tree; His melodies the summer long He carolled with delight, As if he could with jewelled song Find favour in my sight. And now that Autumn’s in the air He’s singing singing still, And yet […]...
35. For John, Who Begs Me Not To Enquire Further Not that it was beautiful, But that, in the end, there was A certain sense of order there; Something worth learning In that narrow diary of my mind, In the commonplaces of the asylum Where the cracked mirror Or my own selfish death Outstared me. And if I tried To give you something else, Something […]...
36. Theology “No, the serpent did not Seduce Eve to the apple. All that’s simply Corruption of the facts. Adam ate the apple. Eve ate Adam. The serpent ate Eve. This is the dark intestine. The serpent, meanwhile, Sleeps his meal off in Paradise – Smiling to hear God’s querulous calling.”...
37. I've Never Had It Done So Gently Before The sweet juices of your mouth Are like castles bathed in honey. I’ve never had it done so gently before. You have put a circle of castles Around my penis and you swirl them Like sunlight on the wings of birds....
38. Round “Wondrous life!” cried Marvell at Appleton House. Renan admired Jesus Christ “wholeheartedly.” But here dried ferns keep falling to the floor, And something inside my head Flaps like a worn-out blind. Royal Cortssoz is dead. A blow to the Herald-Tribune. A closet mouse Rattles the wrapper on the breakfast food. Renan Admired Jesus Christ “wholeheartedly.” […]...
39. Crucible Hot gold runs a winding stream on the inside of a green bowl. Yellow trickles in a fan figure, scatters a line of skirmishers, spreads a chorus of dancing girls, performs blazing ochre evolutions, gathers the whole show into one stream, forgets the past and rolls on. The sea mist green of the bowl’s bottom […]...
40. Twinkletoes When the sun Shines through the leaves of the apple-tree, When the sun Makes shadows of the leaves of the apple-tree, Then I pass On the grass From one leaf to another, From one leaf to its brother, Tip-toe, tip-toe! Here I go!...