when I was seven years old
a perfect man
who kills
W H E N I M E E T Y O U I N T H E
S M A L L S T R E E T S
When I meet you in the small streets
of rain-streaked movies
and old-fashioned shaving equipment,
you smile at me from my blood, saying:
an obsolete wisdom would have married us
when I was fourteen, 0 my teacher.
I walk through your Moorish eyes
into sun and mathematics. I polish
Holland diamonds, and deep into Russia
I codify in one laser verse the haphazard
numbers leaping from each triangular storyoh all world-hated flashing work
I make precise
for the sake of the perfect world.
Like jigsaw pieces married too early
in the puzzle we are pried apart
for every new experiment, as if simplicity
and good luck were not enough to build
a rainbow through gravity and mist.
I T H A S B E E N S O M E T I M E
It has been some time
since I took away
a woman's perfume on my skin
I remember tonight
how sweet I used to find it
and tonight I've forgotten nothing
of how little it means to me
knowing in my heart
we would never be lovers
thinking much more about suicide and money
A P E R S O N W H O E A T S M E A T
A person who eats meat
wants to get his teeth into something
A person who does not eat meat
wants to get his teeth into something else
If these thoughts interest you for even a moment
you are lost
I 233
W H O W I L L F I N A L L Y S A Y
Who will finally say
you are perfect
Who will choose you
in order to edit your secrets
I sing this for your children
I sing this for the crickets
I sing this for the army
for all who do not need me
Whom will you address
first thing tomonow morning
your dreams so bureaucratic
you refuse to appear in them
How beautiful the solemn are
Yes I have noticed you
Whoever gives you money
will be remembered for his pride
I love to speak to you this way
knowing how you came to me
leaving everything unsaid
that might employ us
When you are torn
when your silver is torn
take down this book and find
your place in my head
234 I
W A I T I N G T O T E L L T H E D O C T O R
Waiting to tell the doctor
that he failed
and that I failed
I count the few remaining coins
I should have dropped at Monte Carlo
in the little wishing well
they offer you with the gun
still thinking about you
and the sparks between us
dull, milky and peculiar now
like dimes that have been dipped
in mercury too long ago
Last night I asked my brain
to put back into my loins
my love for you
Free at last I fell asleep
both of us naked and hungry
I am sure you willed me
the fullest audience with your body
on condition I die
What did you leave in my room
on my bed
against the wall
that is so cold and impossible and greedy
I 235
I T ' S G O O D T O S I T W I T H P E O P L E
It's good to sit with people
who are up so late
your other homes wash away
and other meals you left
unfinished on the plate
It's just coffee
and a piano player's cigarette
and Tim Hardin's song
and the song in your head
that always makes you wait
I'm thinking of you
little Frederique
with your white white skin
and your stories of wealth
in Normandy
I don't think I ever told you
that I wanted to save the world
watching television
while we made Jove
ordering Greek wine and olives for you
while my friend scattered
dollar bills over the head
of the belly-dancer
under the clarinettes of Eighth Avenue
listening to your plans
for an exclusive pet shop in Paris
Your mother telephoned me
she said I was too old for you
and I agreed
but you came to my room
one morning after a long time
because you said you loved me
From time to time I meet men
who said they gave you money
and some girls have said
that you weren't really a model
Don't they know what it means
to be lonely
lonely for boiled eggs in silver cups
lonely for a large dog
who obeys your voice
lonely for rain in Normandy
seen through leaded windows
lonely for a fast car
lonely for restaurant asparagus
lonely for a simple prince
and an explorer
I'm sure they know
but we are all creatures of envy
we need our stone fingernails
on another's beauty
we demand the hidden love
of everyone we meet
the hidden love not the daily love
Your breasts are beautiful
warm porcelain taste
of worship and greed
Your eyes come to me
under the perfect spikes
of imperishable eyelashes
Your mouth living
on French words
and the soft ashes of your make-up
Only with you
I did not imitate myself
only with you
I 237
I asked for nOlhing
your long long fingers
deciphering your hair
your lace blouse
borrowed from a photographer
the bathroom lights
flashing on your new red fingernails
your tall legs at attemion
as I watch you from my bed
while you brush dew
from the mirror
to work behind the enemy lines
of your masterpiece
Come to me if you grow old
come to me if you need coffee
D O N O T F O R G E T O L D F R I E N D S
Do not forget old friends
you knew long before I met you
the times I know nothing about
being someone
who lives by himself
and only visits you on a raid
M A R I T A
MARITA
PLEASE FIND ME
I AM ALMOST 30
H E S T U D I E S T O D E S C R I B
